


Practicing Medicine [+]

by M71



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Action/Adventure, Autism Spectrum, Blood and Injury, Ethics, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Medical, Medical Procedures, Medicine, Mental Health Issues, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, POV First Person, Realism, Realistic, Road Trips, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 127,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27962621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M71/pseuds/M71
Summary: 2 years before the events of Fallout: NV, an eccentric young medic with a disco-flair sets out with a caravan of strange folks in search of the enigmatic Followers of the Apocalypse. Road Trip/Character Drama with a realistic tone, updates every Tuesday and Saturday.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	1. The Science of Uncertainty

_“At cardiac arrest, the first procedure is to check your own pulse.”_

-Samuel Shem, ‘House of God.’

(+)1

It was eight o'clock in the morning, and Sheriff McBain had just been shot. 

There weren’t no lights, no sirens. No outward signs of urgency anywhere, save for the frantic telephone call I’d received just seconds ago and my own bounding heart rate. 

It didn’t take me long to pull on my pants or step into my boots. Even with my shaking body, I moved with a sense of purpose, each action a step in a subconscious routine.

_Buckle up my pants, lace my boots, grab my glasses, disconnect my Pip-Boy from the outlet, clip that bad-mama on and get it running…_

The black screen turned a vibrant green color as I clicked the power button, lighting up my dark room. These were the words on the screen:

PIP-OS(R) v1.0.3 

COPYRIGHT 2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

16811 BYTES FREE

HOLLOWTAPE LOADED: “THE-SCIENCE-OF-UNCERTAINTY”

INITIALISING….

SUCCESS!

**> STATUS**

Battery Level: 100%

Wireless Signal: (?) 

Operating Temperature: 90F

**> HEALTH**

BP: 150/120

SPO2: 100%

Temp: 98.5F

RR: 25

HR: 160

**> TIME**

Day: 25 September 2279

Time: 08:01

**> CLIMATE**

Current Temperature: 78F

Atmospheric Pressure: 753 mm

Background Radiation: 0.231 RAD

I couldn’t read much, so I wasn’t sure exactly what each of them meant, but I got the gist- I knew exactly what I needed to know. I threw open my door and strode into the hallway, grabbing my father’s white coat off of a hook along the way. I slipped it on over my shoulders as I strode up to the front door, where my faded orange doctor’s-bag lay on its side. Before I threw the strap over my shoulder, I made sure to quickly button my coat and pull my green tie tight around my shirt collar, because my father told me that a doctor should always look his best. I hefted my bag up with one hand and pushed the door open with the other.

The morning sun was bright in my eyes. It was hot outside, about 97 Fahrenheit if my pip-boy was telling me the truth. Not that it mattered- I was used to the heat, and my patient was inside the air-conditioned Bison Steve’s Hotel. I didn’t give it much space in my head.

I started to sprint, skirting the corner of my neighbor’s house and running out into the main square, heavy bag swinging wildly in my aching right hand. As much as I wanted to have time to process all this, to stride up all slow and confident like father had taught me, I didn’t have the time. It could be a matter of seconds deciding whether or not the Sheriff survived.

I was starting to feel kind of dizzy, like you do when you’re fixing to vomit. The Hotel was just up ahead now. The big “Bison Steve’s” sign flickered eerily as I walked up to the double wooden doors, which I pulled on at least three times before I remembered that they were push doors. A rush of cool air washed over my skin as I stepped into the building, and tried to regain my composure. I cleared my throat. 

“Alright- Alright y’all, listen up: **_My name is Isaac Saller, and I am a medic!_ **” I shouted. There was silence. “‘I’m empty holstered, so please don’t shoot!”

That may have been a bad idea, in retrospect, but it was all that I had planned for an active-shooter type deal. I didn’t deal well with confrontation.

The front hall and the reception desk were abandoned, but the lights were on. I stepped through the next set of propped-open doors and into a dark hallway, where a pretty blonde woman was cowering, holding onto a wall-mounted telephone. Her red face glistened with sweat. 

_That would be Mrs. McBain._

“Oh my god, Isaac! Come here, quickly- I think my husband is dying!” I power-walked to catch up with her, then tried to keep up a comparable walking pace. Which was kind of hard, given my height; I was still, “between hay and grass _,”_ my father would have said.

“Could you tell me what happened?” I asked. The words felt so strange to say out loud. I’d practiced what I’d do in a real emergency, but now that it was actually happening, I couldn’t believe that I was actually falling into my routine, just like I did for everything else. Must not have seen any other option. 

“Well, the boys- Beagle and my husband, right, they were doing firing drills! But then the shooting stopped and my husband started airing his lungs, just shouting something awful. And when I ran in to see what happened, I saw that Beagle had shot him in the leg!” 

And, there was the story. I let out a sigh of relief; here I was worried that I might be dealing with some crazy psychopath! Though, the more I let myself think on it, an idiot like Beagle with a gun started to seem just as dangerous. 

“Does he still got the gun?” I asked, approaching one of the four doors to what had to be the firing range. The familiar scent of gunpowder stung my nose as I cracked open the rightmost door, and peered into the massive, open room. I didn’t see nobody, but then again, my vision was so awful that my patient could’ve been right in front of me. Mrs. McBain brushed through the doors. 

“No, I made him put it down!” I nodded and entered the room.

As I stepped through the doorway, another smell drifted in after the first- a sharp, metallic smell that hung in the air like some sort of leaking gas. Subtle, and not quite so intimately familiar, but I recognized it right away; the acrid smell of blood rubbed on skin. 

“Hey Doc, come on in--the Sheriff is lying over here,” said Deputy Beagle, waving his iron about. I flinched.

“Holster that!” I shouted back, “I’m not going to do anything until-“

**“Beagle!** You put that thing down right now or I’ll shoot you myself!” Shouted Mrs. McBain. Beagle made a dramatic sigh.

“Fine. But, you know it was an accident, and it ain’t like I’m gonna do it again.” He tossed the gun aside. The cocked, loaded, cold-steel weapon hit the ground hammer-first.

The ensuing, “BANG!” was, no kidding, the second loudest thing I’d ever heard. 

“Goddammit!” Beagle shouted, and Mrs. McBain screamed and dropped to a crouch. I just sat, stunned, staring at the gun and trying to think again. It was like my mind was a Television set, and someone had just thrown a brick through the screen; An all-encompassing static crept over my senses. 

“I _saac? Isaac, are you alright sweetie_?” asked Mrs. McBain, over the loud ringing in my ears. I nodded.

“ _I’m okay_ ,” I lied. I kept nodding. “I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay…” 

“You sure don’t look okay,” said Beagle. He was too close to me, _way_ too close. I took a deep breath and pushed him back a little bit.

“I’m good! Where’s the Sheriff?!” I looked around warily. My eardrums were still bubbling, but I was starting to be able to hear myself think again. I had apparently dropped my medical bag on the floor, but it hadn’t opened up or spilled. 

“Jesus kid, can you not turn your head on your neck? Over there, sitting against the support beam!” snapped Beagle, motioning towards the wounded Sheriff with his whole upper body. I felt like yelling back but I didn’t. I just gave him a quick nod and stumbled over to the fallen Sheriff. 

The bright red pool beneath Sheriff McBain’s thigh had already begun to clot into ketchup-like clumps. As I got closer, I could hear him muttering to himself, though I couldn’t understand what about. I dropped to a crouch beside him, opened my bag and rooted through it til I found myself a pair of gloves. I had to work to get them on with how sweaty my hands were. 

“Hello, Sheriff! Can you understand me?” I asked. He smiled up at me.

“Hey! You’re Isaac, the um, the Gambling-Place owner’s son. Uh, Casino! Yeah…” He trailed off. In my head, I started going over my ABCs, because apparently my mind was too overwhelmed to do anything but stick to its beaten-path routines. 

He could speak, so his **A** irway was patent. I didn’t have time to properly test his **B** reathing, but it sounded fast and a little shallow. That was par for the course, which left me with the real problem, his **C** irculation- that’d be the bleeding.

“Alright, Sheriff, I’m going to take your pants off. Tell me if it hurts much,” I said, unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers. They got snagged up on his shoes, so I started pulling harder. He just laughed as I pulled them off. 

“Actually, I don’t feel much of anything in this leg! Just like I got punched, and now it’s burnin’, sorta.” 

That was good. It meant that the bone probably hadn’t been fractured, and I wouldn’t need any med-x. I always kept an emergency syringe of the stuff, but I was reluctant to actually use it on anyone.

Once I’d gotten his pants off, I touched his leg. It was cold and wet. I’d assumed shock, based on the bigass blood pool, but I could be dramatic like that; This was solid confirmation. I was going to have to work fast!

As I searched around in my bag for a tourniquet with one hand, I held up the Sheriff’s leg up with my other, so that I could see the wound in the dimly lit firing range. The hole wasn’t big. At least, not the entry- just a red, penny-sized oval near the base of his thigh, surrounded by bruised skin and seeping out blood. _Like a bloody little volcano._

The exit wound, on the other hand, was _massive_. A jagged hole right under his ass with flaps of skin hanging loose around it, spitting out a torrential amount of bright red blood with each beat of his bounding heart. Based on the color of the blood and the way that it was coming out, I knew that the bullet had nicked or severed his femoral artery. I also knew that I probably couldn’t repair that with forceps and bandages alone. The best thing I could do would be to stem the bleeding, and get a stimpack as quick as possible. 

Of course, that presented a little bit of a problem: See, stimpacks are awful expensive, so carrying them around wasn’t always an option for a man like myself. As of now, I didn’t actually have any of them-things in my jump-bag. Some places ‘round here had one in a box on the wall, but I didn’t see none in here, and I’d have noticed one in the hall if there’d been one. I cursed under my breath. 

“Go and get me a stimpack!” I ordered. I had finally found where I kept my tourniquets without actually looking into the bag, though if I had any sort of presence of mind, I would have been embarrassed at how long it had taken me. I pulled his shoe off, and slipped the tourniquet on over his leg.

“I’ll fetch one from the kitchen!” replied Mrs. McBain, and I nodded to let her know I’d heard. Now that I had a stimpack on the way, all I had to do was keep the Sheriff from kickin it until I could apply the damn thing.

_Easier said than done._

“Why are you squeezing me? You taking my blood numbers or something?” The Sheriff asked, as I pulled the premade tourniquet tight and started cranking on it. I tried to smile.

“I’m not taking your blood pressure, sir, I’m putting on a tourniquet. It’ll hurt, but you’ll bleed a lot less.” When I couldn’t tighten it anymore, I took out another tourniquet, and fastened it right above the first one, against the base of his thigh. It was a good thing that the Sheriff was thin, or I’d be having some issues about now. 

“What are you doing? He could lose his leg that way!” shouted Beagle. When I kept on tightening the second tourniquet, he hit me in the back of the head- not so much to hurt me as to get a reaction out of me. I didn’t give him one. “Hey, are you blind _and_ deaf? I’m talking to you!” 

“Stop it Beagle! Isaac is a good… he’s a good kid,” insisted the Sheriff, his voice growing weak. I finished cranking the tourniquet, and touched the Sheriff’s ashen forehead. He looked like he’d stuck his head in a drinking fountain, with how much he was sweating...

“Could you try and talk with me, Sheriff? I’m gonna try some more stuff, try to keep you from going into decompensated shock.”

The Sheriff looked confused. He squinted up at me with teary eyes.

“Shock? You mean, the reason why it don’t hurt? I’m pretty sure I’m already in shock, but I ain’t- I ain’t shocked, you know. Like, I know what’s happened. _I got my mind about me_ ,” he grumbled, tapping his head conspiratorially. I removed a few packets of gauze from my bag and tore them open.

“No, I mean when your organs stop working cause your blood-pressure drops and they ain’t getting enough blood!” Finally, I finished packing the exit wound tight with gauze. I started putting pressure on it.

“Oh. Huh. Well, you doctors ought to stop having so many words that mean- that mean all different things,” the Sheriff replied, his breath passing his lips so quietly that I was worried he might have fallen unconscious. I stopped moving. 

“Sheriff?” I asked. When he didn’t respond, I reached into my coat with my free hand, and pulled out a small metal tinderbox full of a reddish powder. I waved it under his nose.

“Wake up, Sheriff!” I shouted. He started coughing and looking around wildly.

“Ah, Jesus Christ, what the hell is that smell?” I slipped the box back in my coat. 

“N-H-Four, sir! It’s supposed to keep you awake!” 

_Of course, it wasn’t doing a very good job at it!_ Before I was even done speaking, the sheriff had puked all over himself and slumped forward. I grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him vigorously.

“Keep them eyes open Sheriff! Stay with me here!” His eyes fluttered.

“You know, I like your voice! It’s like, you talk like a teacher, but then you got your daddy’s cowboy-thing going on, so it’s sort of funny…” he muttered. His head hung limp on his neck. I let him drop to his side, and focused on applying pressure to the wound again.

“Um, Isaac?” I looked over my shoulder. Deputy Beagle was standing above me again, clasping his hands together. I wasn’t so good at reading emotions, but I’d seen enough pre-vomit patients to know that he was feeling sick. He had spoken so quietly, which was strange considering how loud he’d been before. “Isaac, Is he gonna die? I thought that getting shot in the leg didn’t kill people. Why’s he acting like that?” I sighed. 

“I sure hope not. But, there’s a big red-pipe in your leg, and if it gets hit, you bleed a lot. I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do if I don’t get a stimpack soon!”

As if on cue, Mrs. McBain came rushing into the room, her dress all bunched up and full of miscellaneous medical supplies. Among the heaps of things I didn’t need, I could see a stimpack poking up.

“Isaac! I brought a bunch of things, I don’t know what’ll help and what won’t, but-” 

Suddenly, Mrs. McBain stumbled, and her makeshift pouch came unfurled as she threw out one hand to catch herself.

_Aw shit!_ I dropped everything and ran towards Mrs. McBain, interposing myself between the unsecured, falling medical supplies and the floor. Packaged Band-Aids, bottles of pills and ointments, a pair of scissors- it all went tumbling over me and I didn’t care, until suddenly I saw the fragile old stimpack teetering on the edge. By now, Mrs. McBain was trying to recover, but she was only making matters worse. The supplies were spilling out both sides now, and she was getting dangerously close to just dumping it all on top of me.

_The stimpack._ That was the focus. I shot out my hand to try to grab it, but I only succeeded in tipping it off it’s balance point, causing it to tumble back into the pouch.

I sat up, and all the supplies that had landed on me spilled back onto the floor. 

“Don’t-“ I started, but she had already slipped and let go of the other side of the pouch. I cried out as it all went spilling on the ground. 

“The stimpack!” I looked down, and found that through some unchecked reflex, I had caught it on my outstretched thigh. I blinked.

“Huh,” I said, and snatched the needle off my leg. I rushed back over to the Sheriff, who was unconscious and drooling. Beagle was sitting beside him, pressing hard on the entrance with his bloodstained hands and muttering to himself.

“Kurt, you can’t die- I’m, I’m just a deputy, if you die I’ll have to handle this whole town myself, and you _know_ I can’t do that! Please, please don’t you die, please-“ I took a knee beside Beagle and his brother, stimpack in hand. Beagle was crying.

“Am I- am I doing this right?” He asked. I nodded. 

“You are doing just stupendously! Just keep doing that!” I replied. I lifted up the sheriff’s leg, tore out all the gauze and probed around with the needle for a minute, until I’d found the deflated husk of his split femoral artery among all of the slick yellow fat and ground-beef looking shit in his leg. I didn’t have much light to work with and it was pretty well buried beneath the gory chaos of the exit, but I knew it when I saw it- despite the tourniquet, the top end was still spritzing out bright red blood with each passing heartbeat. I took my forceps out of my bag, which already had some fishing-line and a hook wrapped around them, and got to suturing the split ends together. The artery kept on pulsing out blood around the edges as I passed my hook and line through it’s thick middle layer. 

_‘Moment of truth, Isaac,’_ I thought, as I squared off my suture. I picked up the stimpack again, prepped the needle with my shaking hands. I took a deep breath. 

In the dim light of the firing range, I stuck the pipe.

The freezing cold from the reaction chilled my gloved fingers halfway to the bone. _Had it worked? Would it hold?_ I had no idea. It wasn’t squirting blood no more, so I snipped off the end of the suture and pulled all the fishing line out, then started suturing up his ragged exit-wound, so that the ends of the skin were facing upwards. I didn’t even bother squaring off the end before running a stimpack along the seam. Once his thigh had sewed up along an ugly white line, I pulled all the fishing string out, because otherwise I was just asking for it to get infected. I still had a little stimpack-juice left, so I moved Beagle aside and shot the rest of it into the tiny-little entry wound, to sort out any of the leftover internal damage.  
  


More time passed in silence. I knew it wouldn’t matter, but I loosened and removed the tourniquets to feel like I was doing something. My ears were ringing, blood was soaking into my pants like syrup, but I barely noticed- all that mattered now was if he was going to live, or if he was going to die. I was just going to have to have faith now.

“Is it working?” asked Mrs. McBain. I checked the Sheriff’s pulses, noticed that some warmth had returned to his skin...

_Pulse is already stronger_ , _and I can actually get a femoral._ I sighed with relief. “It’s working. Pressure’s up.” A few more seconds passed. “I doubt he stopped perfusing to his brain for long, so his head should be fine, if you’re worried about that. He’s gonna need a ton of fluid, though, and he might need some more help with that leg-“ I started, but then Mrs. McBain wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug. Once I was over the initial shock, I hugged her back.

“Thanks,” I murmured. Mrs. McBain laughed.

“You saved my husband, Isaac! You saved his life!”

I nodded and tried to free myself from the asphyxiating hug. Unfortunately, Mrs. McBain was a teensy bit stronger than me. “I don’t even know how to thank you. Do you want caps? We- well, you know we aren’t rich, but we have a tin of caps hidden away under the floorboards!” Still struggling in vain to free myself, I shook my head. 

“No- no, Mrs. McBain, I don’t want no caps! I just need you to work with me here for these next couple weeks to get your husband healthy again. I mean, he just caught a bullet, he’s gonna need some help getting back to normal...” I was lying about the caps. I would have loved caps, considering how much I was hurting for supplies. But I also wanted to establish that I didn’t charge for my services, and Mrs. McBain had a way of inadvertently spreading that sort of information. 

“Oh, but I can’t just let you go back to work like that- look at you, you’re all filthy!” she said, finally releasing me from the hug. I stumbled back and fell onto my rear. “Why don’t you come over to our house- You can get those clothes washed, and I’ll get you some lunch. And a shower too, what would Penny say if she saw you like this?” 

Well, I couldn’t disagree with her on that count. Just hugging Mrs. Mcbain, I’d gotten spots of blood all over her dress. Momma had already had to warn me about tracking blood in the house before...

“Alright,” I said. The ringing in my ears was tolerable now. I was starting to be able to think straight again, even if I was still shaking and sweating like hell. I noticed that Beagle had offered me his hand.

“Um- yes!” I said, pulling off my glove and allowing him to haul me up to my feet. He held on real tight to my hand and looked at me with an expression that I couldn’t parse.

“I owe you one, Isaac. I know that this is my fault, and that I’m not always nice to you, but I- I really _do_ appreciate this. I don’t know what I’d have done without my brother.” I tried out a smile. Beagle smiled back at me, and it almost made me forget how much of a prick he’d been when I was a kid. _Almost._

“Water under the bridge, Beagle,” I replied. I thought about winking, but I once made a girl run away from me when I tried to wink at her, so I held off.

“Isaac, sweetie-“ I turned around. Mrs. McBain was standing in the doorway. “The door’s unlocked, why don’t you come back to the house first? We can lay my husband down while you wash up.”

I considered. The sheriff seemed stable enough for that proposal, but no one else seemed to quite understand the extent of what he’d just suffered, or the long road that lay ahead for him. I mean, hell, he’d had his leg blown open, lost a third of his blood, and then had a stimpack injected right into a central artery! There were some things I wanted to take care of before I attended to myself.

“I like that idea, but can I borrow one of you to help me finish sorting out Beagle first?” I asked. Mrs. McBain looked at Beagle.

“Beagle, seeing as how you’re the one who shot him…” she started. Beagle put his hands above his head. 

“I’ll handle it, ma’am. What should I do?” I raised my hand.

“We’re gonna try to get him on a mattress, if we can. Start him on some Saline and get him drinking water when he wakes up, the stimpack and his body will sorta work together to replace all that blood he lost. He’s going to be in a lot of pain, so we’ll have to give him morphine when he wakes up. I’ve got powder and IV’s with me,” I said, trying my best to cover all my bases without over-explaining. Mrs. McBain started to walk away.

“Alright! You two do what you have to, I'll be getting the house ready for him.” she said, and disappeared through the doorway. I looked at Beagle. 

“He didn’t hurt his back none, right?” I asked. Beagle shook his head. “Good. I’m gonna grab his legs then, you grab his arms- let’s get him on one of them cots over there, then move him from there.”

He nodded. We grabbed a hold of the Sheriff’s limbs. 

“Alright. Three, two, one-” 

[+]


	2. The End of the World

(+)2

COPYRIGHT 2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

16600 BYTES FREE

HOLLOWTAPE LOADED: “THE-END-OF-THE-WORLD

INITIALISING….

SUCCESS!

**> STATUS**

Battery Level: 90%

Wireless Signal: (?) 

Operating Temperature: 92F

**> HEALTH**

BP: 120/90

SPO2: 100%

Temp: 98.5F

RR: 19

HR: 70

**> CLIMATE**

Current Temperature: 103 F

Atmospheric Pressure: 753 mm

Background Radiation: 0.231 RAD

* * *

I had never felt so good in my entire life.

I’d had moments of triumph before, but nothing like what I was feeling as I walked home from Mrs. McBain’s house, my white coat trailing behind me, damp hair blowing in the wind. I was riding high in the saddle!

I’d saved a life. Like, an actual, human life! Everyone had been so happy with me- suddenly, I wasn’t the weird retard across the street, the creepy kid who was always pissing himself over loud noises and sitting alone in the town square. I was a doctor, and I was to be expected, and cheered, and listened to… It was like all my fantasies had come true! I was the coat wearing, slow-walking, calm and collected badass that I’d always promised myself I’d be!

Well, that wasn’t totally true. I’d been a little shaky there for a minute, and there were things I could have done differently, but I hadn’t shut down like I thought I might! That was real progress from the days when a dog barking at me could make me curl up and sob. 

I didn’t bother ringing the doorbell as I threw open the door to my home and waltzed into the main hall, where mom was waiting for me. I didn’t even flinch as she came up and hugged me, because I was already throwing my arms around her myself. She looked surprised.

“Momma!” I shouted, and pressed my head into her shoulder. Even though I was 17 years old, I was still a lot shorter than her, because she was tall for a woman and I was knee high to a lamb- only five foot four at the time. It usually made me feel sort of self conscious, but right now, I didn’t care. “I saved Mr. McBain today! Beagle accidentally shot him while they were doing target practice, and he hit his femoral artery, so I had to-“ My mom shushed me.

“I know! Trust me Ikey, I know! I heard all about it from Mrs. McBain!” There was a pause. Mom ran her fingers through my wet hair. “God I’m so proud of you, Ikey! I was scared when I realized you’d gone, but I knew that you’d be alright. I just knew.” 

A wave of guilt washed over my heart as I realized that I hadn’t checked with mom to tell her where I was going. She’d probably looked for me in the town square, and then heard a single gunshot in the hotel… 

“I’m fine. Sorry I didn’t tell you where I was heading,” I said. I was still pressing my head against mom’s shoulder, because even after a shower and lunch, I felt completely drained.

“It’s okay. You’re home, you’re alive, Mr. McBain is alive… Everything is alright.” Now that I looked at her, mom’s skin was all flushed, and she looked awful sick. She’d looked _old_ for years, but today she looked real frail. Some combination of stress and that long illness she’d gotten way back when, I guessed. I hugged her even tighter, then let her go. We stepped away from each other.

“Well, why don’t you go to your room and unwind- maybe you can play something on the computer, listen to the radio, rest a little…” I stopped smiling. That was how mom liked to preface bad news. Now I was all tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop… 

“And then we need to talk about something.”

I _knew_ it! “Is this about me leaving? Cause, I normally wouldn’t go like that, but it was an emergency, see, and I haven’t hurt myself in years-!”

“It’s not about that,” my mother said, gently. I slumped a little. “Oh, I shouldn’t have said anything. Come on- go to your room, relax, and I’ll talk to you in an hour. Alright?” I didn’t answer. I felt like crying, and if I talked, it would make it worse.

“Alright Ikey?” 

“Okay,” I said, and walked to my room. I shut the door gently behind me, and then sat down at my desk, legs hanging off the end of the chair. I took my pip boy off, plugged it into the computer and then stared at the screen for a while. I hadn’t gone back to my room after answering the emergency phone call, so the “Game Over” screen of Red Menace was still glowing in my absence.

I turned off my computer; I wasn’t in the mood for games now. I put my headphones on instead, plugged them into the radio, and tuned it to the 70’s music station. I had to wade through a few seconds of static before I got the right frequency.

‘ ** _We-are-family_** _!_ ’ came the voice in the headphones. I had a soft spot for Disco, so I cranked up the volume a bit. “ ** _And_** **_I got all my sisters with me…_** ”

Once I was satisfied with that, I opened my drawer and pulled out an old picture of Father that I kept there, that I liked to consult in situations like these. He looked a lot like me- Thin, blonde haired, always wearing his Followers of the Apocalypse Coat. My coat, now. But, where I was short, round faced, and weak, father had been the opposite. The features of his face were sharp and defined, and he had a well-groomed beard. He never wore glasses. 

I closed my eyes. Even though he’d been all those things, that wasn’t how I remembered him. I remembered him because he was fair, and honest, and loving in a different way than my mom. Patient, is what he was. Even back when people thought I was a retard, father raised me like he would any son- he taught me to be good, to resist tyranny, and to never, _ever_ hurt anyone, no matter how bad they were. When I showed an interest in medicine, he taught me that, finding ways around my inability to read and write and do complicated math. He taught me how to use a calculator, how to use simple tricks to solve complicated problems, and all those sorts of things. 

I really liked my father. I’d say that I wanted to live up to his memory, but I knew I couldn’t ever do that. Everyone in the Mojave knew about Lucas Saller and all the folks he’d saved, and I had some problems that he didn’t. Instead, I tried my best to do what would make him proud anyways. “ _Find a way_ ,” he’d told me, and so I always did.

There was a knock at my door. Quickly, I shoved the picture back in the desk drawer and shut it. I tried to keep a steady voice as I said, “You can come in.”

The door creaked open. Mom walked in the door frame- a picture of majesty, in my eyes- and sat down on the bed. She took a long, deep breath.

“Please take those headphones off,” she said. I plucked them off my head and sat them down on the desk. “Thank you.” As an afterthought, I bent over the desk and turned off the radio. I heard the headphones crackle and then go silent.

“Now, I know I said I’d wait an hour, but I got the feeling that I was just stressing you even more by waiting…” It was true. I would have probably exploded if I had to wait an hour. “Is it okay if I talk to you now?”

“Of course!” I snapped, words firing out of my mouth just a little too fast. Mom smiled.

“Oh Ikey…”

  
  
And there was that weakness again- the way her shoulders slumped, her green eyes glossed over- I looked away. “You know, since your father died, you’ve grown up so much.”

I stared at the ground. “Not really,” I said. “I’m still smaller than anyone else I know.” _Well, not everyone._ I was taller than Mr. Nash’s wife now, but not by much. 

Mom shook her head. “You know that’s not what I mean. When you walked in through the door today, all happy and composed, I saw a man in you. And, it was just… It was crazy, to think that you’re this grown up! That I can trust you to go out on your own, and deal with this, this _insane_ , stressful situation, and then come back like it was all nothing.” 

I smiled a little at that, and let myself look up from the ground. “Remember when I used to bite people for touching me? How old was I last time I did that, ten?” 

“Thirteen,” my mother replied, sounding solemn. I raised an eyebrow. 

“Really? Was that before or after…” 

“Before,” she said. I nodded to myself. _Before father died._ “I think that it sort of… forced you to grow up a little. Or a lot, just based on today. And I guess I saw it before then too. You did ten years of learning in three.”

I shook my head. “It didn’t force me, I made a choice to be stronger after that. Nothing done _forced me_ to grow up,” Mom frowned, and my chest hurt a little at that. What was I saying wrong?

“Ikey… well, you know what, it doesn’t matter! One way or another, you’ve grown up a lot since then. You might not see it,” 

“I do,” I interrupted, “I’m doing a lot better now.” 

“-Of course, Ikey. I see it, you see it… And, I think that God’s seen it too, because the world’s decided to give you a new challenge.”

My heart sank.

“What do you mean?” I asked. Mom looked me in my eyes. She wasn’t crying, but her eyes were all red. 

“Ikey, remember that story we told you about the cultists? How your father and I were attacked on the road, and how I got shot?” I nodded. It wasn’t one of her favorite stories, but father had told me about it before. “Well, the problems didn’t set in for a while, but once they did, dad realized that I was sick. You probably don’t remember, but when you were young, I’d disappear for a couple of weeks, every once and awhile. Do you remember that?”

“No,” I said, and I didn’t. I’d forgotten a lot of things.

“Well, no matter. I’d go missing sometimes, and while I was missing, I was getting treatment from the Followers of the Apocalypse. It was expensive, but your father paid for it, either with caps or with his reputation. Between Aunt Julie and him, I could always find help.” 

The pieces were starting to fit together now, and I was starting to fall apart. Had she come to tell me what I thought...?

“Momma, are you dying?” I asked, before she could continue. My mom choked a little bit. 

“Ikey! Ikey, please let me finish! I already feel so terrible, dumping all this on you-“ 

“Dumping _what?_ Momma, ARE YOU DYING?” She breathed deep- looked away from me, clenched her fists- but she didn’t stop. She just spoke to the floor instead.

“Well, the treatment worked! I didn’t even lose my hair, like they said I would- it was all so perfect. The doctors were optimistic. They thought they’d fixed it, killed the disease, but they hadn’t. They’d just slowed it down.”

“For a while, I was alright. I started feeling better, and for ten years or so, I raised you and ran the Casino and spent time with your father without any signs of the disease ever coming back. And then one night, I started feeling sick again, so I sent a letter to Julie and the Followers…”

I knew the rest of this story. “And then Father made an emergency trip home, and he died. I remember, mom. You don’t have to tell me that part.” I was crying now too, thinking about that night. It was dark and hot, and father had brought me a little snow globe…

Nope. Not going there.

“When he died, I lost all of my freedom. You were too young and too…” 

“Retarded,” I finished, glaring at the ground. 

“No, too **inexperienced,** to look after the Casino for me! And I was worried that you might try to hurt yourself again. So, I just tried to tough it out, waiting for the day that you’d be old enough to watch everything while I was gone to get treatment…”

I bit my bottom lip. That day had probably passed about a year ago, but she hadn’t seen it until now. What could I have done differently, to show her that I was ready? 

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could have grown up a bit faster if it meant you getting your cancer treated!” I said helplessly. Mom set her jaw.

“Because I’m never going to try to force you to grow up any faster than you need to. You needed time to develop!” 

“And you needed chemotherapy!” I stood up, and Mom glared at me.

“Ikey, sit! I didn’t-”  
  


“I’m not-”

  
“ **-DIDN’T COME HERE** **,** for you to storm off on me!” 

“Momma, I’m not gonna storm off!” There were tears in my eyes. “I’m- I’m worried about you, is all! If you came here to ask me if you could leave me alone a few weeks then the answer is yes, obviously! I love you!”

But she just shook her head.

“It’s too late for that, way too late. You need to be strong to survive that journey, and I’m not strong anymore. And the roads have gotten more dangerous since then, too- so dangerous that the NCR is taking action. Did you hear that they’re getting ready to set up an outpost here?” 

I shook my head. Obviously, NCR control would be bad for Primm, but that wasn’t what I was worried about now. I was worried about my Momma! My mind was already racing with more possibilities.

“Then what are we gonna do? You- you think we could get the Follower’s to come down here? We could write to Aunt Julie! We could remind them about Father!” 

Mom sighed. She decided to stand up then too, and even with her hunched back, she was so much bigger than me. She drew open the curtains, and some of her majesty returned as the sunlight and breeze washed over her. 

“No, the Followers have too much on their hands right now to treat me again. There’s no options, Isaac...”

  
  
My heart clenched up-

  
  
“ **I’m going to die** .”

And shattered.

  
She rested her arms on the sill as the words sunk in. The horror, the finalty… the _absurdity_ of it all. Because even when you know it’s coming, news like that is more crazy than it is anything else. I couldn’t find any words of my own, so I just closed my eyes and bit my tongue. I would’ve screamed otherwise.

  
  
“I don’t know when it’ll happen. It could be a year from now, it could be four. But when it does, I need you to be ready to take up the Casino- hell, you can sell the thing, I don’t care- but, I need you to be able to survive on your own. Do you think you can learn to do that?” 

A few more seconds passed as hot tears made their way down my cheeks. I kept my eyes and jaw clenched shut, lest anything escape. 

“ _Ikey, baby, do you think you can do that for me?"_

And I heard Momma walking towards me, felt her gettin closer. Felt that static in my head again...

“ _Ikey…?”_

She put her hand on my shoulder, and I exploded.

“NO!” I shrieked. Her eyes went wide.

“What?”  
  
“You heard me Momma! Fuck that, I’m not just going to just, just lay down and _watch_ while you die!” I sniffled. “I’ll- I’ll go and get the Followers myself if I’ve got to, but I am _gonna_ find a way to help! I’ve gotta!” 

Still shocked, my mom sat back down on the bed.

“Ikey… I appreciate that, but that’s an awful idea! I already told you, the Followers can’t-“ she started, but I was already gathering up my things to leave.

“Fuck them too! They have to help you, I’ll yell at Aunt Julie or something!” 

I was in the hallway now. Mom tried to catch up with me, but I’d already clicked on my pip-boy, swept up my coat and picked up my bag. What reason did I have to delay any longer? 

“Ikey, we can still do _all_ those other things! We can still send a letter to Aunt Julie, write to her for help-”

I stopped. I took a deep breath. My hand was on the door knob now, but I drew it back for a moment and stood still at the end of the hall.

“If all them letters didn’t work before, then they ain’t gonna work now.” I turned to face her down. “You ain’t going to change my mind on this, momma. I _am_ going to find a way to save you.”

“No! Isaac I didn’t, I never...” 

She clenched her fists. She looked even weaker now; I’d never noticed how gray her hair had gotten, or how wrinkled and yellow her skin was becoming, or seen any of the signs that I’d so painstakingly memorized. Maybe because I hadn’t wanted to. 

What was that look on her face? Was it worry? Anger? _Regret?_ Maybe it was all of them at once. I don’t know. I’d gotten so used to reading Mom’s simple, practiced expressions that she’d put on just for me, that I didn’t know how to interpret her raw emotion besides knowing that she was feeling something awful strongly. I kept my gaze steady.

“... Oh, damn my pride,” she muttered, eventually. She covered her eyes. “My goddamned pride! Oh, I should never have lied to you!”

  
  
“It’s okay Momma...”

The hot air burned me as I stepped outside. Momma fell to her knees sobbing.

  
  
“ **I never should have lied!** Come back Ikey, I didn’t, I didn’t-!”

“It’s okay! It’s okay, I’ll be back!” I shouted, and left the door hanging open for her to close. I didn’t have the heart to shut the door on her, maybe because it would solidify the crazy decision I’d just made.

Crazy or not, I’d made my choice. No matter what I had to say, or what I had to do, I was going to find a way to save my Momma!

[+]

  
  



	3. The Caravan

(+)3

COPYRIGHT 2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

16213 BYTES FREE

HOLLOWTAPE LOADED: “THE-CARAVAN”

INITIALISING….

SUCCESS!

**> STATUS**

Battery Level: 97%

Wireless Signal: (?) 

Operating Temperature: 82F

**> HEALTH**

BP: 120/90

SPO2: 100%

Temp: 98.5F

RR: 15

HR: 70

**> TIME**

Day: 23 SEP. 2279

Time: 15:00

**> CLIMATE**

Current Temperature: 69F

Atmospheric Pressure: 753 mm

Background Radiation: 0.231 RAD

* * *

“Oh, that’s _terrible!_ I mean, I had known that Penny was sick, but I didn’t know that she had _cancer_!” said Mrs. McBain. She gave my hand a tight squeeze, and then released it. “If there’s anything we can do…”

“There’s one thing,” I said. Both Mrs. McBain and her recovering husband looked up at me. “Look after my momma. Make her nice meals, give her hugs, and send a letter to the followers if anything happens. I hope I won’t be gone for long, but if I don’t come back…” I thought for a moment. “Look for help. If you can’t find any, at least make her comfortable.” 

Mr. and Mrs. McBain shared a look that suggested they were worried about me. “Of course, I’m sure that ain’t gonna happen. I just like to plan for the worst!” Mr. McBain smiled at me from his bed. 

“I appreciate that kind of thinking, son. Things can go to hell in a handbasket pretty quick,” said the Sheriff. His wife glared at him.

“He’s not going to die, Kurt! Don’t you suggest that kind of thing!”

“I wasn’t _suggesting_ nothin! Just saying that it’s good to have a plan- it’s a staple of being a good doctor, or so I hear,” said Mr. McBain, looking at me again. I forced a laugh.

“Yeah, I guess it is! Now, you two, can you do that? Can you look after my mom for a few weeks?” Immediately, Mrs. McBain nodded. Mr. McBain gave a thumbs up.

“Of course, Isaac! It’s the least we can do, really,” said Mrs. McBain. I smiled.

“Thank you,” I replied, and headed for the door. Mom might come looking for me soon, and this’d be one of the first places she’d check.

“Wait, Isaac- do you want to call your mom before you leave?” suggested Mrs. McBain, putting a hand on my shoulder. I shook my head.

“No. Well, yes, but I’m afraid that she’ll change my mind.” I hung my head. I didn’t want to pass up the opportunity, but I needed to do this. I suspected that I was going to have to make a lot of these kinds of choices in the near future. “Thank you though. I’ll try to repay you somehow when I get back.”

“Isaac, dear, you already have.”

I smiled at that. “If you say so.” A cloud of dust blew in around my legs as I opened the door. “See you folks soon- tell Mom I said goodbye, and that I love her!”

And just like that, I left behind everything I knew, and strode into unknown territory.

-Break-

Well, not really, “ _Unknown territor_ y,” not yet. The next place I went was the town square, which was quiet and empty today. I was thankful for that. I strode past mom’s Casino, which was my next destination, and crouched down next to a little patch of brown grass and concrete between the sidewalk and Bison Steve’s. That was where Father had been shot. After that, he backpedaled for a while, and then ran into the side of the Casino, where he fell down and bled out.

  
  
I walked over to the wall. Me and mom had painted it together, before he died and after. I usually left him something; The first time it had been the snow globe he was going to give me, then it had been cactus flowers, and it kept changing after that. Whenever it stormed, the items got swept away, which I was okay with. He wasn’t even buried there, and it wasn’t like he was in any state to need the stuff. I would just start over, leaving something new every time.

But not this time. Not only was that in the past that I was trying to leave behind, but it was also kind of stupid, as I was starting to realize. Instead, I just crouched down next to the spot, put down my bag, and tried to make myself look presentable.

“Howdy, Father- I’m going on a little adventure, out in the wastes. I’d be real grateful if you could watch over Momma til I get back.” I didn’t know much about communing with spirits- still don’t, but it felt like a nice thing to do. After all, I was going to be gone for a while.

And after that, I stood up, wiped away the tears that had been gathering in my eyes, and walked into mom’s bustling Casino. The mysterious new city of New Vegas had taken a toll on business, but Primm still had the most convenient Casino on this side of the Mojave. 

“Good evening, Mr. Saller! How you doing- I heard you saved the Sheriff’s life today!” said Johnson Nash, an old, wrinkly-skinned man and the overseer of the Mojave Express mail delivery here in Primm. I smiled as I approached him.

“Howdy Mr. Nash. My mom is dying of cancer. Are there any caravans passing through here?”

Mr. Nash looked surprised. His gaze shifted to the window. “Well, I… Really, Penny? I’m so sorry, boy, she’s always seemed so strong to me! I never would have guessed that she…” he turned his head to look at me again. “Sorry. I’m reminiscing. You just missed an NCR caravan heading up to Nipton. If the schedule keeps going like it has been, another caravan should show up next month…”

“Crud,” I muttered. I thought about saying something less polite, but Mr. Nash didn’t like me swearing. 

“Sorry,” said Mr. Nash. Then, his expression changed. He glanced over his shoulder.

“Oh, I almost forgot! There’s an unsponsored one preparing to leave right now, bound straight for New Vegas. It’s a little caravan, three people, a couple of brahmin and a wagon. They’ve run the route a few times, but they don’t usually pass through here. The leader- Gram, I think it was, says he’s with the NCR. He’s got a ranger with him, so normally, I’d be inclined to believe him. But, the NCR never told me about them like they do with the rest of their caravans, and only the ranger wears a uniform.”

I started to walk away. “Thanks, Mr. Nash--where can I find them?”

“They’re out back behind the Casino, sort of over by the hitching posts, but I wouldn’t mess with them. They seem kind of shady to me,” he said. I turned my head to grin at him.

“Oh, I’ll be fine, Mr. Nash. I’m sure they’ll jump at the opportunity to get a doctor on board!”

-Break- 

“ **Hands behind your head!** That’s right, don’t move an inch!”

I shouted out in pain and surprise as the great-big person with the ranger uniform pushed their boot even harder against the small of my back, no doubt leaving a bruise. Without even registering it, I had moved both of my hands behind my head. 

“Good. Hoplite, search him!” 

A stout, bespeckled ghoul wearing a plaid three-piece suit with a tan cowboy-hat sauntered into my field of view. I hadn’t met many ghouls before, but I could tell by his demeanour that he was no spring chicken. Maybe pre war, maybe not, but definitely _vintage._ Maybe even antique. He stared at me for a while, then took off his hat, and tilted his head in my direction.

“He’s got nothin, Tandi. If he had a gat, he would have tried to reach for it when you spotted him,” said the ghoul. My ribcage felt like it was going to crack open as the ranger put even more weight onto their one foot. 

“That’s not what I’m worried about. I bet he’s a legion slave, check his collar, look for brands on his skin!” 

“I ain’t a slave,” I said, and instantly regretted speaking. The ranger laughed, a strange, hollow sound once it got passed through the helmet.

“Well, the kid ain’t a slave! What a goddamn relief!” The cheery Texan twang didn’t mesh with the deep, slavic voice. Every word that the ranger spoke sent chills down my spine.

“Look!” I shouted. I reached for my coat collar, and the ranger raised their foot and jammed their heel into my back again, harder than before. I screamed out something incomprehensible.

“Try it again, slave-boy-“ I could hear the ranger pull the bolt back on their submachine-gun, and I’m pretty sure I pissed my pants a little. “…And I put a round in your kidney! Maybe death don’t scare you, but pain like that’ll make a tough man cry. Ain’t that right Hoplite?” 

The ghoul let out a tired sigh. “I’m not about to play good-cop bad-cop with you, Tandi. Let the poor kid go.” The Ranger kept their foot on my back for a few more seconds, pressing just hard enough to give me a sharp pain in my ribcage. Finally, they released me, leaving me aching in the sand.

As soon as I had recovered enough to breath, I flipped myself onto my back and started coughing. My whole goddamn chest was aching, which was an unfamiliar and unpleasant feeling. Of course, that wasn’t what I was thinking about. I was instead thinking about how I almost got shot, how I almost died less than an hour into my journey, how I _almost_ failed my momma… 

I started crying. I knew immediately that it was a bad idea, so I kept it silent, but I couldn’t help but let a few tears leak down my face. No one seemed to notice it, probably because they were still talking amongst themselves.

“…we do with him? Like, I’d feel kind of bad leaving him here…”

“Whoa, big friggin’ idea right here: why don’t we ask him what he was doing? He don’t look like a bad guy to me…”

“Leave him here. He’s a runt and a coward, and the only thing I-“

“Buzz off, Tandi! No one invited you to this conversation!”

“Yeah, shut up, the adults are talking!”

“ **What?** I am thirty years your senior, _Savvy!_ ” 

“… Ladies, please. If we don’t make a decision soon, I think the suspense might kill him.” 

“Still time for me to kill him.” 

“Hush! I think he’s listening to us!” 

All eyes turned to me. After a few seconds of feeling like a bug in a magnifying glass, I threw my arms into the air and craned my neck in what I can only describe as a full-body shrug. The ghoul laughed as my arms and legs thumped against the sand. 

“Did that hurt? That looked like it hurt,” said the person who I hadn’t seen yet. I could hear her walking closer to me. I didn’t look up.

“Little bit,” I admitted. She was standing behind my head now, and, not wanting to lift my neck, I strained my eyes to look up at her. I couldn’t see her so well against the glare of the sun, but I could make out the general look; she was a young, heavy-ish woman with a bob of black hair and what I recognized to be some-kind-of-Asian features, wearing a faded floral sundress and a floppy hat. I smiled up at her, and she smiled back.

“Howdy there!” I said, and then regretted speaking so loud. My chest still ached.

“Hi! I’m sorry about our ranger. She’s kind of aggressive,” said the girl. I snorted. “Anyways, what’s your name? And, uh, would you like to stand?” 

“Isaac, and no, not really,” I replied. Still smiling, she withdrew her hand.

“That’s okay. What were you doing back here? Was this just bad luck, or were you trying to find us?” I nodded absently.

“Both, I think.” I saw the ghoul cast a sidelong glance at the ranger. 

“A wise guy? Oh, this’ll be fun. Maybe we should kill him after all,” said the ghoul, and I laughed a laugh that was really just a thinly veiled prayer to God that he was joking. The girl gave him a look.

“Gram, _hush._ Why were you looking for us? And don’t beat around the bush anymore, I hate it when people do that.” 

Normally I would agree with her on that, but I felt like I had a little bit of a right to be insufferable. Given the circumstances. 

_Don’t push your luck,_ I thought to myself, _you want to join up with these folks. You can still spin this to your advantage!_ Except, I didn’t really know how I was gonna do that. None of them were taking any sort of pity on me, so I doubted I could play the poor, innocent boy card, and I wouldn’t press the dying momma thing. Past that… well, I wasn’t really sure what to say.

First though, I decided to stand up. I couldn’t have looked very impressive, lying in the dirt like I was. Trying to appear as though I weren’t in incredible pain, I stood and dusted myself off. I turned to face the girl in the dress, who was looking awful unimpressed with me. 

“Well, since you asked me so nice, I’ll keep it simple- I need to get to New Vegas as soon as possible. Someone at the casino told me about y’all, so I came to see if you might take me on.” I turned my head to look at the ghoul. “You’re Gram, right? Nash told me about you. Said you were kinda shady, but I trusted that I’d be alright.”

The Ghoul nodded. “Yeah, that’s me. Sorry, but we ain’t taking any new members. We run a taut ship here, and to be honest, I don’t think we need anyone else gumming up the works.” I started to talk, but the ghoul raised a hand to silence me. “And, forget about paying to come along, because this job here is paying enough for my retirement! Don’t think I didn’t see that look in your eyes, kid.” 

_There went that avenue._ I tried not to look defeated.

“That’s alright! I don’t got much money anyways,” I said, which was technically true- I wasn’t very liquid right now. “I was thinking about offering my services. I’m a doctor, see!” 

“Nah, see, I already told you, we don’t- wait!” I could see the look on his face change as he registered what I said. “Wait, a doctor? Ah, I should’ve guessed by the coat! You roll with the Followers?” 

“No. I’m looking to see them, actually. My aunt Julie leads this here chapter, and my father was a big shot there. Taught me a thing or two, before he died.” I said. I showed him the badge on my coat, which was a little metal circle with a stenciled-on cross with forked ends and a circle at the point where the two lines crossed. He examined it for a moment, then nodded.

“Badge seems genuine, so I don’t think you’re lying about your pops. But, how do I know you’re any good as a doctor? We can’t exactly have you perform a demonstration.”

_I had a solution to this one!_

“That’s easy! I saved a man’s life this morning, and I can prove it! Name’s Kurt McBain- he’s the Sheriff of this town. Ask anyone in that Casino, and they’ll tell you that I’m not lying. Mrs. McBain shared the news with _everyone_ , so there’s no shortage of people who know,” I said, grumbling the last part like I was disappointed. I was secretly thrilled that she’d told so many people, but I was pretending to be disappointed because it seemed more in-character. 

“Cook, why don’t you go check up on that story? Tandi, go check the perimeter, make sure this isn’t some sort of distraction. I think I’d like to talk to the kid alone.”

The other two members of the group departed wordlessly, leaving me alone behind the Casino with Gram, the weird ghoul who spoke like a gangster from one of the pre-war crime novels that my father would read me sometimes. He scared me less than the ranger, but more than the other person- Cook, he had called her. I couldn’t really put a finger on why.

“So, Isaac, let’s assume you’re telling me the truth, for a moment. Just _how_ good of a doctor are you?” asked Gram, walking past me to lean against the peeling Casino wall. I thought for a moment. That was a _hard_ question.

“Well I’m more of a medic, really- general physician in a pinch, but I studied for trauma. Given enough supplies, I can patch up most folks who haven’t got irreversible organ damage,” I replied, thinking back to how I’d repaired the Sheriff’s leaky artery with a stimpack. I might’ve been able to fix it without one, too, if I knew going in what exactly I’d be doing, but I wasn’t sure if I trusted my emergency sutures to hold on their own just yet...

  
  
We talked for some time about what I’d done, and what I _could_ do if I absolutely had to. I explained to him that if I set up a pip-boy profile for everyone in advance, I’d be able to get all sorts of information that I’d otherwise have to find out the old-fashioned way. All the while, Gram was scratching the back of his neck, looking over at the back door to the Casino like a deathclaw might come bursting out at any moment. He always kept one hand in his coat. 

“Well, Cook’ll be getting back pretty soon, and I’ll call Tandi over the radio once Cook gets back. Assuming you ain’t lying or holding anything back, then you’re on. I’ll give you ten minutes to pack up, and then we’re leaving.”

Despite everything, I smiled- I just couldn’t help it! The sun hadn’t even set, and I was already starting my journey to save my mom. No one could tell me it was just an idea now, because I was taking actions- taking _risks,_ I realized, and it was already paying off. I was elated!

Suddenly, the back door to the Casino opened up. Cook stepped out, her expression unreadable. 

“Hey, Gram? So, I asked around, and I’m pretty sure that he’s for real. There were some people who hadn’t heard about the incident, but most of the people who I talked to confirmed that the story was true,” she said. Gram raised one of his bushy eyebrows.

“Hm. How many is, “most?” How was your sample size?” 

“Eight out of the Ten people who I asked answered in the affirmative. No one actually denied the story, they just denied knowledge of it. The details didn’t deviate much between accounts, either.” 

Gram turned his whole upper body to look at me. He whistled. “Damn, Isaac! Either you’re the fifth best conman I’ve ever met, or you ain’t kidding about the whole doctor thing. I’m gonna go with the latter, because I’ve usually got a pretty good eye for cons.”

“Are you sure, Gram? Not knowing about it is what makes a good con. What if you’ve been getting tricked all the time, and you’re so bad at spotting cons that you didn’t see most of them- even in retrospect!” suggested Cook. Gram scoffed.

“Please- when you’re alive for as long as me, you learn a thing or two about people and their tricks.” He sounded cross, but I could tell that he was smiling. Cook made a dramatic gesture. 

“That’s what _they_ want you to think! It’s how they’ve tricked you for so long!”

“Who’s tricked who?” asked the ranger, emerging around the corner with their barking-iron drawn. Every muscle in my body tensed as I tried not to jump out of my skin.

“Cook was telling me about all the cons I’ve apparently missed. I got a pretty good eye for cons, right, Tandi?” 

“How do you know you can trust my answer?”

Cook grinned from ear to ear, and I found myself smiling too- her grin was infectious. “I told you! You’ve been blind this whole time, Gram! I guess living so long has given you some sort of complex…”

Could I wedge my way into this conversation? Did I even want to? The group seemed to run on an awful lot of unspoken rules and agreements, and I definitely didn’t get the impression that I had been invited to this particular conversation just yet. 

“Et Tu, Isaac? Has this all been some sort of set up?” Gram asked, throwing his arms out and contriving to look betrayed. I took my invitation and tried real hard to look menacing.

“I’m sorry brother, but you shouldn’t have crossed the mob. You saw what happened to Sunny, didn’t you?” I said, making a little finger gun and calling desperately on my vague knowledge of “The Godfather.” Gram raised an eyebrow.

“First off, that’s not what Pacino sounds like and Michael didn’t kill Sonny. Second, you’ve seen The Godfather?” He sounded more intrigued than surprised. I shook my head.

“Read it, actually. My father read me a lot of books when I was younger. Are you from New York?” I stopped. That was a weird place to end the sentence, since they couldn’t understand the train of thought that led there. “Sorry. It’s just, we were talking about The Godfather, and you sound a lot like the voice my father would put on when he was playing New York mobsters.” Gram looked at me strangely, or at least I imagined he did, then nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I lived in Brooklyn before the war. I’ve been a lot of places since then…” He seemed to think for a moment. “Have you seen what New York looks like nowadays? It’s worse than the Capital Waste. If I hadn’t gotten outta there, I’m sure I would’ve gotten killed by now.” 

“Well, I haven’t been, but-“ I started, getting ready to recount one of my many stories about father’s adventures with the Followers. Before I could finish, the ranger stepped between us. 

“Beggin’ your pardon, Hoplite, but the sun’s setting, and I don’t want to spend another night in this shithole. Are we taking him or not?” 

Gram shrugged. “Depends. Are you sure you wanna come…” 

“Isaac,” I said. Gram nodded. 

“Right. Now, Isaac, before you agree to anything, I feel like I’m obligated to warn you about the dangers of this run. There are raiders out there, there are legion assassins, mutants, and because of these things there will probably be death. We haven’t had a casualty in years, but you’re still probably going to watch _someone_ die.” That last one hit me like a punch in the gut, but I think I managed to keep my reaction under wraps. I just nodded. “You ever seen someone die, Isaac? Are you gonna shut down on us as soon as someone gets shot?” 

“Yes, I have,” I replied, and left it that. Gram looked satisfied.

“Good. Let’s get going. Isaac- as of this moment, you’re hired. I’ll give you ten minutes to pack. Be quick,” he said, shooing me away. I shook my head.

“Actually, I’m already packed.” In retrospect, I probably should have taken a few choice magazines with me, but those weren’t particularly vital. I had my jump bag with me, and I had the clothes on my back.

It was kind of sad, actually, to think that I didn’t own a single item worth taking with me that I wasn’t already carrying. _Maybe I just wasn’t thinking hard enough._

“Well, in that case, we’ve got no time to waste- let’s hit the road!”

Under normal circumstances, I’d have felt awful sad, leaving home like this, not knowing if I was ever gonna return. But today, I was satisfied. I’d made a decision, and I was finding a way to carry it out!

“Cya soon, momma,” I mumbled, and loaded my bag onto the back of the wagon. I was leaving all-standing, and the journey ahead of me would surely be long, dangerous, and full of unpleasant surprises. I might even die a horrible death, end up face down in a pool of radioactive waste...

_I’d never been more thrilled in my entire life!_

[+]


	4. The Looney Bin

(+)4  
  
COPYRIGHT 2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

15932 BYTES FREE

HOLLOWTAPE LOADED: “THE-LOONEY-BIN”

INITIALISING….

SUCCESS!

**> STATUS**

****Battery Level: 57%

Wireless Signal: (?)

Operating Temperature: 93F

**> HEALTH**

BP: 120/90

SPO2: 100%

Temp: 98.5F

RR: 14

HR: 75

**> TIME**

****Day: 23 SEP. 2279

Time: 22:12

**> CLIMATE**

****Current Temperature: 72F

Atmospheric Pressure: 753 mm

Background Radiation: 0.431 RAD

* * *

It was well past my usual bedtime. 10:12 PM, when I translated the clock from military time, and the sun had already set. The sky was too cloudy to see any stars, of course; Even the brilliant light of the moon couldn’t quite make it through. I was tired, both because I was used to a more structured schedule, and because it had been an exhausting day. So much had happened at this point that I wasn’t really in a frame of mind to care about one more piece of work.

  
  
Gram had suggested I do something to introduce myself to my new friends before we hit the hay, so I decided to do what I was best at- general assessment! I’d do a head-to-toe examination of each of them. That way, I’d be getting to know each of them in a real literal way, and it gave me an excuse to set up some pip-boy profiles. The Pip Boy makes a great assessment tool, assuming you got the patient in the database already.

  
  
I looked over each of my patients, then back at my device. _57% battery charge_ … creating new profiles always took a lot of battery power, but I knew it would hold for the night. If worse came to worst, I could charge it up a little with the glowing energy cell that I always kept in my breast pocket.

  
  
I was about ready to perform now, with this makeshift examination room as my stage. It was little more than an abandoned shack that we’d used as a goal post while hiking, and eventually decided to camp by; we’d all be sleeping in nice orange tents. I had used the rickety shelves to set up equipment that I’d need, and propped up an old 3-legged chair against the wall for the patient to sit in. The ranger, who I’d learned was named Tandi, had loaned me a tactical flashlight to provide lighting. Or, I suspected, Gram had made them lend me the flashlight. I’d also commandeered the cart’s radio to get some appropriate music going.

  
  
Now, it wasn’t much, but I was grateful for it, because the shed offered privacy. I’d seen firsthand what kind of compromising information could be revealed during this sort of assessment. Forget the eyes, it turns out that STDs are the _real_ window into the soul.

  
  
“Alright folks, looks like we’re all set up! Cook, why don’t you come up first?” I suggested, motioning for her to come on forward. She smiled.

  
  
“Cool! I actually have a few things that I want an explanation for.”

I ushered her inside, and had her sit down on the stool. I gave her a quick once over; she was about my age, maybe a little older, with freckly brown skin and messy, chin-length black hair that she’d pulled back into a bun. Definitely on the heavier side for a Mojave resident, but other than that she seemed to be taking pretty good care of herself. She had a healthy glow about her that was refreshing to see.

  
  
After checking to make sure I had turned the pip-boy all the way off, I removed it from my arm, and clipped it onto Cook’s. Her arm was bigger than mine, so I had to put it a bit lower, but it still fit alright. I turned it on and let it set up a profile. The song on the radio changed as we got settled in.

  
  
**_Blamin' it all,_ **

**_On the nights on Broadway-_ **

**_Singin' them sweet sounds,_ **

**_To that crazy, crazy town..._**

**_  
  
_**“I’ve never seen one of these things up close before. Is it going to reveal my deepest, darkest secrets?” Asked Cook, big brown eyes rooted to the glowing green screen. I nodded.

“If you consider the state of your internals to be your deepest, darkest secrets, then sure. You missing anything?” She shook her head as I donned my stethoscope.

  
  
“I don’t think so. Are you?”

  
  
I looked down at my left hand. I _was_ missing something, actually- I didn’t have a thumb on my left hand. Instead, my father had done some little surgeries, and moved my index finger to where my thumb would be. It worked fine, didn’t hurt me none, so I hardly noticed it. I flexed my hand to demonstrate.

  
  
“Yep. Ain’t that neat?” Cook looked mystified.

  
  
“Whoa. That is cool! Why are all those fingers so _long_ ?” I shrugged.

  
  
“Hell if I know. The whole arm is a little screwed up, but mostly the hand.” _And the forearm,_ I thought about pointing out. There was a huge patch of pale and rubbery skin running along there, but it didn’t seem like she’d noticed yet and the reasons for it being that way weren't the kind of thing that I liked to talk with new folks about. It was my uncomfortable little secret, you know?

  
  
“Could it be radiation? Maybe your mom got exposed while she was pregnant,” suggested Cook. I thought for a moment. _Had mom been pregnant with me when she got shot?_

“Hey, wait a minute- this is your examination, not mine! Keep the speculatin’ to yourself!” Cook shrugged.

  
  
“Sorry, I'm a natural speculator. Oh, and, I think your pip-boy is booted up. Am I a new user?” I nodded.

  
  
“Here, lemme see it-“ I used the selector wheel to scroll to the thing that said, “YES,” which was a word I could read, and then let it boot up some more. After a few seconds, her profile popped up:

  
  
**> STATUS**

Battery Level: 40%

Wireless Signal: (?) 

Operating Temperature: 95F

**> HEALTH**

BP: 130/80

SPO2: 99%

Temp: 99.5F

RR: 12

HR: 100

 **WARNINGS  
** >Right Kidney: Absent

* * *

“I see a warning,” I said. “Do you mind reading it for me?” Cook shook her head.  
  


“No, I… well, shit.” She stared at the screen silently for a few seconds. I raised an eyebrow.

  
  
“What?” 

“It says, right kidney: absent. Is that bad?”

  
  
I blinked. “Um, let me see that.” I crouched down next to her, and flicked over to the screen that showed the smiling guy- or, girl, apparently, if the user was female, with little symbols indicating problems. Sure enough, there was a little black warning sign where her left kidney- her right kidney, actually, would be located. “Hm. I don’t reckon it’s a glitch.”

  
  
“Okay, but is that bad? Am I going to die before I turn twenty?” she asked, with enough confidence that I was pretty sure she knew the answer. I shook my head.

  
  
“Well you might, but not on account of your kidney. Some people just… only have one, I guess.” I thought for a second, then added, “Rule of thumb: If you’ve survived this long without any problems, you’re _probably_ fine.”

  
  
That seemed to satisfy her. “Anything else you need to check?” she asked. I nodded.

  
  
“A few things. First off, I want to get an idea of what your normal heartbeat sounds like.” I slipped the earbuds of my stethoscope in and placed it against her chest, moving it around a bit. I didn’t hear no beat. “Could you pull your shirt up?” I asked. She gave me a suspicious look.

  
  
“I’m wearing a dress. I can’t really pull it up.”

  
  
“Okay then, pull it down a bit. I don’t hear nothing,” I replied, trying not to push it too much; apparently some people really didn’t like showing their skin in front of other folks. I always thought that was strange, but I’d learned to respect other people’s weird choices. She sighed and pulled the top of her dress down a bit.

  
  
“Still getting more lung than heart,” I said. Cook snickered.

“Well that’s because you’re listening on the wrong side, you dork!” I froze. I took a deep breath, and then I placed it on the other side.

“Oh my god,” I murmured. I stood there for a few more seconds, not sure whether to feel astonished or annoyed. 

  
  
“What?”

  
  
“Cook, have you got yourself a twin?” I asked. Cook frowned for a second, then shook her head.

  
  
“Not that I remember. What’s that have to do with this?”

  
  
“Your entire body is flipped! Your heart’s on the wrong side, the pip-boy registered your right kidney as your left kidney, and I’m willing to bet twenty Caps that you’re left handed!” I said, yanking the stethoscope out of my ears. She looked surprised.

  
  
“Ambidextrous, actually. I use both my hands for stuff, though I guess I do sort of default to my left! I hadn’t noticed until you mentioned it,” she replied, rubbing her left arm nervously. I shrugged.

  
  
“Whatever! It’s harmless, and imagine if someone tried to kill you by shooting you in your heart, but they couldn’t cause it was facing the other way!”

  
  
“That _would_ be badass.” she conceded. She stroked her chin. “Like, the hero puts the gun up to my chest and shoots, and then turns his back because he thinks that I’m dying, and then BANG! His friends all gather around for his tragic last words, I laugh an evil laugh and make my escape…”

  
  
“But what if the hero-“ I started. Cook started cackling.

  
  
“Hey, no, don’t steal my idea! What if his heart was on the wrong side too? Or, it was on the right side, but I didn’t know which side the heart was supposed to be on because _mine_ was wrong!”

  
  
“Oh- but then, you both die anyways, cause you still got shot in the lung, and now you’ve got pneumothorax and your lung is gonna collapse!” I realized midway through the sentence that it was a real buzzkill, but Cook didn’t seem to mind. She leaned back in her chair.

  
  
“True… Well, I guess it wouldn’t be all that useful then. Still, it’s _kind of_ cool!” She made a little gesture with her thumb and index finger to indicate just how _kind of_ cool it was.

  
  
“A little,” I said, still grinning. We both just kind of sat there for a while after that, enjoying our newfound kinship. Cook made a sound like she’d remembered something.

  
  
“Oh! I almost forgot- do you have any idea what this weird rashy stuff is? It’s genetic I think, because a few other people in my first tribe had it and I’ve not seen it anywhere else.” She turned her back to me and spread her arms. I hadn’t noticed before, but the backs of her arms and all of the skin I could see on her upper back was covered in these little raised red patches with chalky white centers. 

  
  
"Psoriasis,” I said immediately. She turned back around looking all sorts of concerned, but I waved her away. “Nothing serious. There are a few different types, but none of them are dangerous. It just means that the top layer of your skin grows too much in some places, which is what makes those weird little scales appear.” She sat back down.

  
  
“Is there like, any way I can treat it? The rashy bits itch all the time, and it hurts when I scratch them.”

  
  
“Yeah, actually!” She perked up a bit. “Just spend some time with your back to the sun. Make a habit of keeping the rash uncovered, and try to face it towards the sun whenever you’re sitting.”

  
  
“Why’s that work?” She asked. I shrugged.

  
  
“No idea. My guess is that the sunlight helps kill the weird cells, but I’m a combat clinician, never studied for it specifically. One of my father’s doctor-buddies had psoriasis, and that worked for him. He liked to go around shirtless ‘cause of that,” I explained. Cook nodded.

  
  
“Sounds like fun, but I’ll probably just stick to backless dresses- For everyone’s sake.” She laughed, and so I laughed too, even though I didn’t really get what she was joking about. It felt nice to laugh along with someone again.

  
  
“Well… I guess you better do your next patient. It’s kinda late,” said Cook eventually, standing up from the rickety chair. I nodded.

  
  
“Of course. Been a pleasure talking with you!” I unclipped the pip-boy from her wrist and gave her a friendly wave as she walked out the door.

  
  
“Yeah, you too!”

  
  
 _Well, that’s one patient down_ , I mused. Weird anatomy, but good company! I’d have to get to know her better in the future.

  
  
“Next!” I shouted. 

  
-Break-

  
Battery Level: 23%

Wireless Signal: (?)

Operating Temperature: 95F

> **HEALTH**

BP: 150/120

SPO2: 97%

Temp: 97.5F

RR: 10

HR: 60

 **> WARNINGS**  
> Head: Crippled  
> Right Eye: Crippled  
> Left Leg: Damaged  
> Right Kidney: Absent

> **TIME**

Day: 23 SEP. 2176

Time: 22:56

**_It's not in the way that you hold me,_ **

**_It's not in the way you say you care!_ **

**_It's not in the way you've been treating my friends,_ **

**_It's not in the way that you stayed til’ the end..._ **   
  


* * *

  
Now, I couldn’t read all the warnings, but Tandi sure had a lot of them. I flipped to his- no, **_HER_ ** , I realized, little character icon, then immediately regretted it as the wave of warnings jumped out at me.

“Damaged head, missing right eye, some kinda fracture warning in the right leg…” I stopped for a second. I screwed up my face a little. “Oh, for fuck’s sake- are you missing a kidney too!?” Tandi bobbed her helmet solemnly.

“Okay, whatever, that’s _fine,_ I’ll ask about it later! In the meantime, could you take off your helmet, so I can see your head?” She didn’t respond for a bit, which probably bumped my systolic up at least another ten points. Then, slowly, she brought her hands up to her helmet like Darth Vader, and lifted it off.

Her face was sharp. She had tan, leathery skin and straight blonde hair streaked with grey, tied behind her head and tucked into her collar. The lines of her face suggested that she was about fifty years old, but the sharpness of her features made her look younger. She was kind of familiar, but I couldn’t say why…

That was, of course, ignoring that the entire lower-right side of her face hung somewhat loose, with that side of her mouth all scrunched up at the end. One of her eyes was little more than a swollen, empty socket, and I could see a patch of missing flesh where her synthetic jaw poked through. Before I could start feeling disgusted, though, I got to feeling kinda curious.

“What happened there?” I asked, reaching my hand towards the face to touch the skin. Her glare was enough to make me draw back.

“I had my face shot. Someone put it back together.” She tilted that side of her face towards me. “How’s it look?”

“Magnificent! I’ve never seen anything like it,” I replied, eyes wide with wonder. The fact that she could still sound so normal- well, so relatively normal, if you ignored the bizarre cadence, was mind blowing. “Seriously, whoever did that surgery must of been equal parts crazy and _awesome_ !”

Tandi shook her head. “No. He was a terrible doctor, just a butcher with a steady hand. Guy who made the jaw was smart, but a real shit soldier.”

So it had been a joint effort. That explained the patchwork quality, though I was still a little unclear as to how she’d actually survived getting shot in the melon. That thing contains some pretty vital stuff.

“Well, as neat as that is, you’ve got a lot of problems. Let’s start with your kidney- where the hell is it?” She curled one side of her face into a smile, which caught me off guard, then lifted up her shirt and armor. Among other markings, there was a deep, pink scar running just inferior to her ribcage, all the way across her side.

“I had a comrade named Andrei who needed one. I was stupid back then, so I gave it to him. Tried to take it back later, but that’s another story...” she recounted. She stared off into the darkness, seemed to space out for a while, and I didn’t interrupt her. I often did the same thing.

“… Anyway, now I’m short a kidney. Good luck with Gram.” She started to stand up, grunting a little as her gargantuan form unfolded out of the chair. I motioned for her to sit back down, even though I knew I couldn’t actually do anything if she chose to leave. I got the impression that she could walk right through me if she wanted to, although she didn’t on this particular occasion; tonight, she settled for scowling at me as she sat back down.

“Can I put my helmet back on?” she asked. I nodded.

“Sure. And I can probably help with that eye, if you let me. Removing a little bit of tissue and wearing a patch would probably do you a world of good.” I couldn’t tell if she’d heard me. When the mask was on, she was about as emotive as a Protectron. “Anyways, let’s talk about that leg! You got any idea what happened there?” Tandi stared at me for a few seconds, which was really creepy with the glowing red visor and the gas mask. She shrugged.

“I kill people. Sometimes, I kill them up close. I must have kicked someone’s skull in too hard.”

As usual, the talk about killing upset my brain and my stomach a little bit. I’d already decided that I was never going to kill nobody, swore an oath on it way back at Father’s funeral, but would they expect me to? Cook might understand, but Tandi? I wasn’t sure about Gram either. If he was still alive this many years after the war, I’d be willing to bet he had killed at least a few people...

But, it wouldn’t do to think about that during an examination! I tried to pull myself together.

“So, I don’t know much about what happened, except that it didn’t heal right. It’s too late to just stick some med-x in, but if we measured doses and gave you some down time, I could probably fix it...” Before I was even done speaking, Tandi was shaking her head.

“No, fuck that- I keep my scars. I ain’t about to sit around on my ass for a month so that I can get out of chairs quicker.” I rubbed my temples.

“ _Well then_ , it's awful late, and I still haven’t examined Mister Gram! You don’t have any life threatening conditions right now, so I’ll just let you go.” Without much more than a grunt of pain, Tandi stood up, tossed my pip boy on the ground, and started to walk out the door.

“And, uh- Tandi!” Slowly, she turned back around. I couldn’t see her face, but I could tell that her patience was gone. “… Be careful. You’re awful tore up, you know that? If you get hit bad, I don’t think I can offer you more’n a lick and a promise.” She didn’t nod, or do anything that told me that she heard what I was saying. She just stalked away, disappearing into the dark

Oh well. No one could say I didn’t try.

“Next!” I said, with a little less conviction this time. 

  
-Break-  
  
  
Battery Level: 4%

Wireless Signal: (?)

Operating Temperature: 98F

> **HEALTH**

Vitals:

BP: ?

SPO2: 93%

Temp: 104F

RR: 16

HR: 50  
 **> WARNINGS  
**> Pulse: WARNING!  
> Airway: WARNING!  
> Temperature: WARNING!  
> Circulation: WARNING!  
> Blood Pressure: WARNING!  
> Respiration: WARNING!  
> Liver: WARNING!  
> Circulation: WARNING!  
> Dangerous radiation level!

**> TIME**

Day: 23 SEP. 2176

Time: 23:15 ****

**_Oh, oh, oh (oh, oh, oh)_ **

**_You're a native New Yorker!_ **

**_You should know the score by now, (you should know by now),_ **

**_You're a native New Yorker..._ **   
  


* * *

“Well, Gram, congratulations- your biology is so funky that you’ve triggered _every single_ vitals warning. You proud of yourself?” I could tell that Gram was trying to keep a straight face as my Pip-Boy shat itself figuring out how he was still alive. He took a puff on his cigar and kicked back in the chair, causing it to creak dangerously. That didn’t seem to worry him none.

  
  
“Oh, you bet your ass I’m proud. Surviving this kind of stuff ain’t just a talent of mine, kid, it’s a _passion_.” He aired his cigar smoke as I stared him down, really took him all in for the first time; His brown skin was dead and peeling, his eyes were murky and black. And when he breathed, I could hear the fluid in his lungs without holding a stethoscope to his chest.

  
  
In the end, I gave up and sat down on the floor.

  
  
“To be honest, Gram, I’m kinda lost here. Both of the others had distressing shit, but at least they were human. With you… I don’t even know where to start. Are your organs even in the same place anymore?” He made an incomprehensible expression.

  
  
“I dunno- I’ve never checked.” He took another puff of his cigar, which I would comment on, but… well, frankly, that was the least of his worries. _Everybody’s gotta die of something, I guess._ “If _I’m_ being honest for a moment here, Isaac, I knew you’d be confused. I just had to make sure I was right.”

  
  
My heart sank. This had been a test?

  
  
“Gram, I know I don’t sound super confident, but that’s just because this is unfamiliar territory for me! Knowledge gaps scare me! If you get shot, I’m still gonna find a way to fix you,” I said, tensing up like I had a gun pointed at me. He chuckled at that.

  
  
“You worry too much, Kid- I just want to get to know you in a medical context, make sure I can trust you to handle me and my team. Looking at how worried you are, I think I know the answer.” He gave me a wink, which he had clearly been practicing plenty over the last two hundred years, and I relaxed a little.

  
  
“I… Alright. I think I hit it off with Cook, at least, so that’s good,” I replied, sighing and scooting over to the ground beside Gram. The smell of cigar smoke filled my nose.

  
  
“Good! She came out with her smile intact, that’s always a good sign! Did you and Tandi get along any?” The mention of her name wiped the grin right off my face. “Wait, don’t answer that question- I think I know the answer. You two are already like a couple of old pals, right?”

  
  
I let out a mix between a laugh and a growl, and stared up at the flashlight hanging from the ceiling.

  
  
“She’s what my Father would’ve called a ‘ _Calamity Jane._ ’ That lady has got _issues._ ”

  
  
Gram laughed too. “Yeah, you think? Turns out that thirty years of state sponsored slaughter can mess with your head.” Gram swished some more smoke around in his mouth, and blew it out through his nose. “She’s a good woman at heart. She just has this idea in her head that she’s got some kind of duty to her people- to the NCR, to me and Cook- and sometimes she just can’t see anything else.” I guess Gram saw that I was looking forlorn, because he reached over to pat my head. “Don’t worry about it. Just be glad that you managed to get through to Cook. You ain’t gonna be all alone.”

  
  
Then Gram handed me my pip-boy back and stood up to leave. I didn’t stop him. As he opened up the rickety wooden door, (which I noticed that only he had bothered to close) he turned around to face me. “G’night, kid. Try and get some sleep tonight. We’ll be walking most of tomorrow, and I want you up at the crack of dawn.” I nodded. 

  
  
"Course.” Gram tipped his hat, and closed the door behind him.

  
  
Blinking to stay awake, I checked the time on my pip boy. It was almost midnight, which meant that the day wasn’t even over yet. Yawning, I turned it off, and plugged it into my emergency energy cell.

  
  
September 23rd- It had been the best day of my life, then the second worst, then it got better, and now it was kind of mediocre again. I wasn’t sure how I felt now. Not that it mattered how I felt. I was going to have to stop thinking so much if I wanted to survive the following days, I realized, as I straddled the line between sleep and consciousness. I thought about standing up to turn the light off, but I was so tired that even thinking about standing up made my legs ache. Instead, I just made a sad, feeble attempt to reach the thing with my hand, and then everything went black.

  
  
And so that’s what happened on the 23rd of September, 2173; the day that the world ended.  
  


[+]


	5. The New Kid

(+)5  
  
COPYRIGHT 2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

15452 BYTES FREE

HOLLOWTAPE LOADED: “THE-NEW-KID”

INITIALISING….

SUCCESS!

**> STATUS**

Battery Level: 100%

Wireless Signal: (?)

Operating Temperature: 87F

**> HEALTH**

BP: 120/90

SPO2: 100%

Temp: 98.5F

RR: 17

HR: 70

**> TIME**

Day: 24 SEP. 2176

Time: 06:12

**> CLIMATE**

Current Temperature: 80F

Atmospheric Pressure: 753 mm

Background Radiation: 0.431 RAD

* * *

I woke up to the pleasant smell of fresh-cooked bacon mingling with the less pleasant smell of rotting wood. I rubbed my eyes- had I really fallen asleep in the damn cabin? My back hurt, my joints ached, and, according to the pip-boy, it was 6:12 AM, almost two hours before my normal wake-up time.  
  
Though my back screamed at me to lay back down, I forced myself to stand, audibly popping at least a few joints in the process. I muttered some bad words under my breath and tried to stabilize myself against one of the shelves. Soon as I pushed on it, I could feel the wood yield, splitting and snapping off in one violent motion. I tumbled to the ground along with it and a heap of medical supplies.  
  
“Goddammit,” I groaned. I started trying to scoop up the fallen supplies. None of them seemed damaged, but so much had fallen- Bottles of pills, bags of rad-away, surgical implements from the bottom of the bag…

  
Suddenly, the wooden door creaked open. I made a noise like a caveman who’d just been spotted screwing his buddy’s wife, and turned around to face the intruder. 

“Isaac- Oh my gosh, did you actually fall asleep in there?” I couldn’t tell if that was worry that I heard in her voice, or mocking. I looked away from her.

“Yeah. I was just cleaning up in here,” I said, scooping up a few more items and putting them back into my bag. I could feel Cook’s eyes on me as I struggled to reach for a couple of items that were on top of one of the intact shelves.  
  


“Well, you can finish packing later. I made some home-style bacon, which as I’m sure you know has a pretty short tastiness half-life before it gets all weird and chewy.” I nodded.

“Um- yeah, you’re right. Is it that weird NCR ration stuff?” I asked, following her outside the shack.  
  


“Technically, but I think you’ll like it. I can turn a pack of instant noodles into _Taglioni ai enokitake-mutante!_ ” She wore a proud grin when she said that, and I gave her a weak little smile back. 

“Mm.”  
  


The rising sun felt painfully bright as I scanned the horizon, noting that we had passed the big radio-tower that loomed in the mountains beside Primm. Of course, we really hadn’t traveled far yet- I could still see Primm, with its neon signs and its indefinitely under-construction roller coaster standing out against the hilly background. The coaster had been the previous Casino-owner’s idea, but Mom had decided to see it to completion. She let me ride one of the parts that worked once; I quickly decided to never ride a roller coaster again.

Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be at home with mom- not the sick mom, but the strong, gambling, slightly-tipsy mom that I had spent my boyhood with! I blinked back tears as I stared at the home I was leaving behind, then quickly turned around. 

“Goddamn sun is getting in my eyes,” I muttered, and kept limping towards the scent of Bacon. 

Cook and I walked around the side of the shack, and over a little hill. Once we reached the crest, I could see the campsite below, just off the highway, behind a massive boulder. The wagon and its two brahmin sat off to one side, a few yards away from a shoddily constructed fire pit, where I could see Gram sitting in a folding lawn chair. Cook led me down the steep hillside, silently indicating for me to follow behind her. It took me a second, but I got the message after slipping on the third loose rock.  
  
Standing atop the boulder, I could see the unmistakable outline of Tandi, who I think was waving.

“Took you long enough **!** ” she shouted, her voice amplified by her helmet. Cook gave her a defiant middle finger.

“I’ll spit in your dinner!” she shouted back, cupping her free-hand over her mouth. I assumed a look of quiet horror.

“ _C_ _ook!_ That’s a textbook BSI violation!”

Tandi hopped down from the rock, executing a perfect tumble just as I remembered that she had a horribly injured leg. I almost shouted in protest, then realized that she was already standing again. She dusted herself off.

“‘Morning, fellas,” said Gram, tipping his hat at us from his rusty folding chair. I gave him a quick salute.

“‘Morning, sir! Sorry I took so long to get up.” Gram gave me a dismissive wave.

"You’re the one missing out on a hot breakfast. Check the fire, I’ll bet there’s some left.” 

I don’t much like fire, but I also didn’t like how hungry I was feeling. So despite my fears about the safety of the fire pit, I walked up and knelt beside it. It wasn’t a big fire- it had been made from a couple of planks of plywood and a chunk of tire, though I was also pretty sure I saw something metal in there somewhere. It had been built inside a hand-dug pit, with the shovel still lying off to the side, which worried me a little bit. What if I fell in? Would I fall into my own fiery grave of burning embers?

Stupid. I was being stupid. The fire was burning low now, and there were two pans of delicious Brahmin bacon cooking over the stove. That was the important thing here.

“How do you recommend taking these out?” I asked, staring at the delicious bacon which awaited me in the pan below. It was tempting to just try to grab it, but… _fire,_ you know?

Cook motioned for me to move out of the way. She was holding a machete covered in dried blood- _Animal blood,_ I hoped, while I moseyed right-on out of the way. Cook stepped up where I had been standing, and nimbly scooped up four strips of bacon with the machete. She wheeled around on one heel to face me, and I froze, trying not to be worried about the blade that was now just inches away from my chest. Cook smiled.

“How many do you want?” She asked. I looked down at my poor, empty stomach, then back up at her.

“...Can I just have all four? I don’t think I ate breakfast, lunch or dinner yesterday.” _Food had been the last thing on my mind._

“A man after my own tastes, I see! Stress-eating is the noblest kind of eating,” she replied. She tilted her machete downwards a bit, and I quickly cupped my hands to catch the sliding strips of meaty goodness. I juggled them around in my hands as the worst of the heat dissipated.

“You don’t know the half of it. Got any plates?” Cook shook her head.

“Nope. We have a couple of bowls for soup, but I just cleaned those. Find a rock or something.” She looked at me for a moment, and screwed up her face a little. “Why are you here anyways? No offense- I like Doctors, and you seem cool! But you don’t seem like someone who’s traveled before, and New Vegas is far away. What brought this on?”

I thought for a second. I had deliberately withheld that information from Gram because I wasn’t sure how he’d react, but I wasn’t really worried about Cook. Would she tell Gram? Would he be annoyed that I’d been withholding information?

Was I _maybe_ overthinking this a little?

“My mom’s sick. I need to see the Followers to get her help, and they’re stationed in New Vegas now.” 

There. Noncommittal- I didn’t say she was dying, just that she needed help. I didn’t let on too much about the circumstances, either. I just told the truth. And I always say, reluctant honesty is the best policy, on account of It fostering character growth or something.

Come to think of it, I was starting to see why characters in the books that father always read me didn’t just dump their deepest, darkest problems on each other as soon as they met. I’d always been of the mind that most of their problems would be cleared up if they were just honest with each other- that was my thinking behind the examination. But now, I was seeing firsthand the dangers of sharing information with new people. If I told Gram or Tandi the wrong thing, or presented it the wrong way, I could see myself winding up abandoned.

Cook seemed safe, though. Where Gram seemed to care only as it related to running an effective team, and Tandi didn’t seem to care at all, Cook seemed endlessly fascinated by most things. In the examination room, she had been interested by my hand, by her own strange biology, and seemingly just by _me._

Based off of that, I was pretty sure she wasn’t testing me or looking for a reaction when she asked that question. She just really wanted to know.

“Oh. I’m gonna guess that what she has is terminal?” ventured Cook, trying to make scary eye contact for some reason. I sighed.

“...Yeah. My mom has cancer. Nothing I can do about it, but I know some doctors who I’m hoping to convince to come back and help. My Aunt Julie is kind of a big deal there, and I’ll bet I could guilt trip her.”

“Oh.” We both sat in silence.

_Well, there went keeping that part a secret_ . Still, it didn’t really matter- if I was desperate enough to mosey on up from Primm to New Vegas and beg for help, anyone with an ounce of brainpower could guess that the situation was pretty serious.

I started munching on my strips of bacon, which admittedly brightened my mood a little. I think I was on about the third piece of bacon when Cook finally decided to try to restart the conversation.

“I’m really sorry- not about your mom- well, obviously about your mom, but also about…

"Bringing it up like that,” I said, finishing her thought for her. She tugged at the hem of her dress.

“Yeah. I don’t always think before I talk.” 

Well, I could understand that, at least. Not that I didn’t think before I spoke, but that I didn’t think about the right _things_ before I spoke. I’ve always tried my best to be kind to everyone, but my idea of kindness is a lot different than most people’s. For example, most people will tell you that they’d like for you to tell the truth, which is good- I like telling the truth, makes me feel better- but when you tell them the truth, they get all upset and tell you that you shouldn’t be so mean. It’s infuriating- if they want me to lie, why don’t they fuckin tell me so?

Well, actually, maybe that’s a bit too much to expect, but it would be nice if they didn’t preface it with, “ _Be honest_ ,” seeing as how they expect the opposite. But I digress.

“It’s okay- I have a similar problem,” I replied. Then I thought back a little, and decided to be proactive. “Actually, can I ask you a quick question?”

Cook nodded. “Ask away!”

“When you say, “be honest,” do you mean it? Like, I’ve noticed that a lot of people tell me that, and then when I tell them the truth they get all freaked out. You ain’t going to do that, right?” I asked. She grinned.

“Oh, thank gosh- I thought you were about to start asking me about _my_ past or something. Um, no, I definitely won’t freak out if you’re honest with me. Actually, I kind of hate it when people mince words to make things sound better,” she replied, scooping up another few strips of bacon with her machete. She offered me one.

“No, but thank you!” I instinctively backed up a few inches as the blade came within chopping-distance of my nose. She smirked.

“More for me, I guess.” I watched with confusion and fascination as Cook flicked her machete, tossing all three strips of bacon into the air, and then subsequently caught them with her mouth. I couldn’t pretend that that wasn’t kind of impressive, but I honestly wasn’t sure how to show my appreciation for a stunt like that.

“That was kinda nasty,” I offered. Cook scoffed at me through the bacon.

“Oh, come on, you’re a doctor! Isn’t your bar for what’s, “nasty” a little higher than that?” I shrugged.

“I never said that stuff _wasn’t_ nasty. But, I poke around people’s guts all the time. I don’t think I’ve ever watched someone do that before,” I replied. That was a little bit of a fib- I actually didn’t root around inside people’s internals very often. In fact, yesterday was the first time that I’d done anything that involved so much blood. But, I’d seen father do the same thing a thousand times, and I’d practiced on corpses and looked at diagrams, gotten a sense for what it was like. Even by that time in my life, the smell of blood on skin was one I wasn’t ever gonna forget.  
  


“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment- I made a doctor sick to his stomach,” she said, finishing off the last of the bacon and wiping her mouth. I shook my head.  
  


“No, see, I didn’t say you made me sick, I said it was “ _kinda nasty-_ ” there’s a big difference!”

“You two, shut up and pack your shit! We’re leaving!”  
  


We both turned around to face Tandi, who had been stalking up behind us, helmet underneath her arm. She looked a lot better in the morning sunlight than she did in the sickly glow of the flash-lit shed. Her hair flowed behind her as the wind blew, and she was able to stand at her full, impressive height, which was at least a foot taller than me. Cook and I were both completely dwarfed by that woman.

“I’m already packed--Isaac isn’t, but that’s my fault. I fetched him for breakfast before he could finish,” said Cook, and I silently appreciated her jumping to my defense like that. Tandi rolled her eyes at us with her entire upper body, and pointed in the direction of the shed.

“Well get to it then! I’m gonna scout ahead, check the usual places. Don’t do nothing stupid,” she suggested, slipping her helmet back on. Before I could think of a clever retort, Tandi was already out of earshot. She gave Gram a lazy salute as she strolled past him, and he tossed her something- a rifle, I think. She caught it with practiced ease. Then she strode behind the boulder, and out of sight.

“She’s real scary,” I decided. Cook shrugged.

“I like her. I mean, she’s not usually this mean- She’s just not a morning person. Give her some time, eh? She’ll warm up.” I gave her a look that suggested the opposite.

“Really? What could she possibly like about me? I’m a small-town doctor, she wouldn’t let someone like me tie her boot-laces!” Cook looked annoyed now. _Were they actually friends or something?_

“Yeah, and I’m a cook, if you couldn’t tell! She doesn’t care what you do, she cares what kind of person you are. As long as you aren’t a complete coward or one of Caesar’s cronies, she’ll be fine with you.”

I sighed. “Okay, maybe. I’m still just gonna stay out of her way unless I’ve got to.” Cook didn’t argue with that. I looked up at the hillside that the shed lay behind. “Do you want to help me pack up?”

She shrugged. “I guess. I’ve really got nothing better to do.

That was fine by me.

  
  
-Break-

  
  
“How’s that yellow brick road song go? We should be hummin’ that right now,” suggested Tandi, strolling beside me and Gram. Cook was sitting on the top of the wagon, enjoying a midmorning snack of NCR rationed trail-mix.

“You mean the Elton John one? It’s like, “ _When are you gonna come down, When are you going to Land_ -“ started Gram, getting into the rhythm of the song with his gravelly voice. Tandi shook her head.

“Nah, not that hippy shit! I’m talkin’ about the one that the little brat in the wizard movie sings!” I perked up at that.

“You’re talking about the Wizard of Oz!” I replied. That movie was like, one of three that I had ever seen! Tandi nodded.

"Yeah, that one! How’s the song go?”

“Well, it’s like, “ _Follow the Yellow Brick Road, Follow the Yellow Brick Road, Follow the Yellow Brick road_ !” and then there’s a trumpet thing and then they start singing that they’re, ‘ _off to see the Wonderful Wizard of Oz_ ,” I explained, doing a happy little jig as I sang each musical number. I couldn’t see Tandi’s expression, but I don’t think she was very impressed.

  
“That’s the gayest thing I’ve ever seen,” she said. After a brief pause, she began to hum the song. I hummed along, and eventually, Cook caught on and started humming too. Gram just looked annoyed.

_"We’re off to see the wizard_...” Gram rolled his eyes at me. “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz! Come on, sing with me!” 

“Yeah! I’ve heard you sing before, you’ve got a great voice!” said Cook. Tandi just kept humming along, walking forwards just a little faster than the rest of us as she hummed. The humming was surprisingly recognizable, given that it was being so grossly distorted.

“The Wizard of Oz is one becozzzzz…” I started, grinning evilly at Gram. He lit a cigar.

“I consider this your fault.” 

Tandi began to hum louder, and Cook took that as a cue to join back in. I just grinned and kept humming along, happy to lighten the mood for the other two. It was getting really hot, after all, and we had already walked a couple of miles this morning.

Still humming, I checked the route guidance on my pip-boy. We were currently bound for Sloan, a little NCR mining town to our West, which was still many miles away. Thankfully, the highway was flat--slightly downhill actually, so the journey wasn’t even hard on my legs. Mom and I would go hiking up to the old cell tower back in the day, and I’d been keeping in decent shape by running the neighborhood almost every morning since then. 

The others weren’t tiring either, which was refreshing. Tandi was so well exercised (and determined) that she could probably walk up a 90 degree slope, and Gram just seemed to be perpetually strolling through some sort of imaginary park. It wasn’t so much that he was fit, but that he saved his energy so well that it was almost supernatural.

Cook, on the other hand, was not big on hiking. I didn’t get the impression that she did any sort of dedicated exercises, and she was a lot heavier than any of the rest of us. So, she usually just sat on the top of the wagon, occasionally getting down and walking with us for a while. It was kind of fun to wave to her and shout back and forth from the ground to the top of the caravan though, so I didn’t judge.

Despite my ability to keep up, I still got the sense I was doing something wrong. The sun seemed to be getting to me a lot more than the others, which was strange considering how much time I spent outside. I was fanning myself off, taking little breaks behind the occasional shade-granting boulder, and even staying hydrated (despite our best attempts to run out our water reserves before we reached Sloan.)

So, I gave myself a mission: as we walked, I tried to look out for things that the others might be doing differently. At first, my search was fruitless--I didn’t notice anything different. We were all wearing long sleeves, (Except Cook, who was still wearing a sundress, and also keeping her back to the sun which I think meant she was taking my advice.) we were all walking at a comfortable pace, and we were all taking steps to stay hydrated. Then, as I was doing a quick scan, I noticed something-

**H A T S**

_They all had hats!_

Gram wore a bowler hat, Cook wore a baseball cap with a maple leaf on it (or sometimes a floppy hat,) and Tandi was rocking her ranger helmet. Did it really make that big of a difference? There was only one way to find out.

“Hey, Gram! Do you maybe have like, a hat I could use?”

Without even turning around, Gram chuckled at me- had he been expecting this? Did this happen to every new recruit or something? I felt a little bit like I’d failed another test.

“I was waiting for you to ask. Yeah, I got a few choices. You wouldn’t believe the difference they make!”

So he had been expecting this! I tried not to look forlorn as Gram stopped the Brahmin, opened up the back of the wagon, and ushered me inside.

I hadn’t ever seen the inside of the thing. The frame of the wagon was made of wood, I noted, and it had open sides, but Gram had covered it in brown-colored blankets, except for the place where a spigot for getting water stuck out the side of the wagon. The doors in the back weren’t locked in any sort of way, although there was a bar that Gram had to slide so that they could open up, probably so that it wouldn’t come open by accident.

Inside, there was a big black box- in fact, the frame of the wagon had been slightly modified to hold the thing, it was so big. The box was clearly locked, and it took up almost all the space inside the wagon. In the space that the box didn’t take up, there was a machine gun, a laser rifle, cooking supplies, some sort of emergency-medical-supplies box that I was pretty sure was made to hold stimpacks, a bunch of tangled up electronics that I wouldn’t even try to identify, and a few hooks with spare clothes hanging on them. At the tip of each hook was a hat or helmet, bobbing pleasantly as the wagon came to a complete stop.

“Well, Isaac, take your pick- if you can’t reach it, we can get Tandi,” said Gram, indicating the helmets in the very back of the wagon, a space that was hard to reach on account of the massive black box. I gave it a kick.

“What’s in here?” I asked. Gram shrugged.

“The NCR wouldn’t tell me- they just said that it was important, and sent me on my way.” He leaned over like he was getting ready to spill me a secret. I gave him my ear. “They promised me a hundred-thousand _caps_ for this. None of those NCR dollars- good, solid caps. And a hunded thousand, do you know what that could buy? That’s enough to disrupt this economy in a big way. That’s more than I’ve made on every other shipment combined.”

Normally, I didn’t think much about money, but I had to admit that the number floored me. _The things that a man could do with a hundred-thousand caps…_

Of course, it was the NCR offering the money, so I was pretty sure Gram was going to get fleeced somehow. They would impose some ridiculous tax on his payment, or just plain sweep him under the rug, since the whole deal had presumably been made in secret. That was how the NCR operated- it was part of why the Followers had been so reluctant to work with them, and why father had hated them so much. And to be honest with you, I couldn’t disagree with him. The NCR wanted a police state, and freedom wasn’t something I took lightly. I figured that people don’t need a bunch of jackbooted thugs with barking-irons telling them how to live their lives, when they had been perfectly content before. Raiders were a problem, sure, but the NCR had really only made the problem worse by acknowledging the issue and then failing to do anything about it.

Of course, the NCR was also the only thing keeping the legion from coming in and killing us all, so I tolerated them for that. No matter how much the NCR might’ve sucked, they were better than Caesar’s Legion. At least some of them thought they were doing the right thing, even if most of them were hopelessly corrupt…

“Isaac? You gonna choose a hat?” Asked Gram. He only seemed a little bit bothered. 

“Yeah, of course. Sorry,” I murmured, and started scanning the hats on display. There was a floppy hat, a tan ballistic helmet, an old firefighter-helmet, a police cap, another floppy hat...

“I’ll take the fire helmet,” I said, and pointed at the scratched grey helmet that shared a hook with a bomber jacket and a couple of sundresses. It didn’t have quite the same sun-blocking properties as a floppy hat, or the safety features of a ballistic helmet, but I’d worn a fire helmet before and it seemed like it would perform both roles fairly well.

“Alright. Can you reach it?” I nodded.

“Hell yeah I can reach it!” Though it was on one of the farther hooks, I compensated by pushing myself up to the top of the black box with one hand, and reaching for the helmet with my weird hand. I wasn’t tall enough to pull it off the hook, so instead I knocked it off from the bottom and grabbed it from on top of the black box. Once I had secured it, I let myself slide down.

“Got it,” I muttered, and slipped the helmet on. Because of some convenient rigging inside the helmet, it was surprisingly snug on my head, though I could feel it bob a little when I moved.

“Well, it’s loose for sure, but it’ll give you some good shade. Has your decision got anything to do with the thing on the front?” he asked, poking me in the center of my helmet with his finger, right where the emblem sat. I nodded sheepishly. Part of the reason I had picked it was, indeed, on account of the cool blue star of life on the front. I knew I wasn’t anything like the paramedics of the past, but I had considered them to be a sort of ideal when I was younger. Since then, I’d never quite shaken the idea of being like a pre-war medic.

“Well, come on, let’s not lose any more time. We’re closer than you might think,” he said, leading me out of the wagon. He shut the doors, and looked over the caravan with a big grin.

_"In fact,_ riiiiggght around this bend, we’ll be able to see Sloan. We’re booming along today, just absolutely killing it! Who knows- _maybe_ we can even get back on the road after we stop,” he continued, clearly trying to get a rise out of us. On cue, Cook groaned obnoxiously, and Tandi mumbled something about armor plates and sweat. I groaned too, but my heart wasn’t in it- I was on this journey to save mom, and the quicker it went, and the fewer hitches we ran into, the more successful I was likely to be.

“Sloan-Ho!” shouted Cook as the cart rounded the bend in the highway that had been necessitated by two giant, rocky hills. Tandi snorted at that, and I gotta admit that I smiled a little too. The town of Sloan, though still far away, was now straight ahead.

New Vegas was a long ways away from here, but I was glad that we were already making so much progress. Considering how well things had been going, it was all too easy to forget that I was on a tight, invisible timer, slowly counting down to, “too late.”  
  


[+]


	6. The Lord’s Middle Finger

(+)6

  
2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

14902 BYTES FREE

HOLLOWTAPE LOADED: "THE-LORD'S-MIDDLE-FINGER"

INITIALISING….

SUCCESS!

**STATUS**

Battery Level: 67%

Wireless Signal: (?)

Operating Temperature: 90F

**HEALTH**

BP: 120/90

SPO2: 100%

Temp: 98.5F

RR: 17

HR: 70

**TIME  
**

Day: 24 SEP. 2279

Time: 15:32

**CLIMATE  
**

Current Temperature: 89F

Atmospheric Pressure: 750 mm

Background Radiation: 0.431 RAD

* * *

" **Chomps Lewis!** How ya doing, old buddy?" cried Gram, throwing his arms out and motioning for "Chomps" to come hug him. Chomps didn't play ball. He was wearing a yellow mining helmet, and holding some sort of animal in his arms- a mole-rat, I think. Didn't seem like he wanted to let it down to hug Gram.

"Howdy, Gram. Going to New Vegas again?"

Gram shrugged. "Dropping off a shipment there. And if it all works out, maybe I'll have enough money to settle down there for good." Chomps stroked his mole rat, and it let out a quiet sniffle.

"That city sucks the money right out of you, Hoplite. I traveled there once- never again. Blew a whole month's earnings in one hour..." He didn't sound bitter, when he spoke, just regretful. Gram put a hand on his shoulder.

"A _hundred-thousand_ caps, Chomps! That's how much I'm gonna get paid, and I ain't gamblin' away a single cent of it. There are other things in Vegas than gambling," he said. There was a serpentine emphasis in his voice as he spoke aloud the _absurd_ amount of money he'd be earning from this job. The old man sighed.

"Listen, Hoplite, that's great and all, but if you want to go to New Vegas, then you might as well turn around right now. This route is closed to travelers."

Gram looked hurt. "Closed to travelers? Is everything okay here?" Chomps shook his head.

"No, things are not okay. You heard about these escaped NCR convicts? Powder gangers, they're calling themselves. Dangerous folks," he replied, still stroking his mole-rat. Gram nodded sympathetically.

"Yeah, I always knew that the correctional facility was a stupid idea. Giving a bunch of violent criminals dynamite, they should have seen that one coming from a mile away…" Gram trailed off, then snapped back to attention. "But, those boys- they don't trouble _us._ Bounty hunting is one of Tandi's favorite pastimes. Am I right, Tandi?"

"I've killed at least a hundred now, and that's just since I got to America. Do you want to know how many times I killed in Kiev? I used to keep track," said Tandi. My heart skipped a beat.

_Kiev?_

_Oh._

_Oh,_ _of course that's who she is!_

"Wait, Tandi, did you just say Kiev? As in, Kiev Ukraine?" Tandi put a finger up to the mouth of her gas mask.

"Shut it, sawbones. I'm busy," she said. But she wasn't getting off that easy _-_ I nudged her in the shoulder.

"As in, the Scourge of Kiev? Is that who you are? I thought you were retired!" Tandi yanked her mask off. She didn't look happy.

"Yeah, that's me! I served my 25 years, I got my medals, and now I'm retired. You want a fucking autograph?"

She didn't shout. She just looked and sounded completely disgusted with me, and that hurt a lot more than the shouting would have. I slunk back behind the cart and tried not to care about the opinion of a 50-something year old serial killer.

But, despite how much I disliked the NCR, and how much I disdained killers, I'd heard a lot of stories about, "The Scourge of Kiev," that mysterious Eastern ranger. She might not have been born here, but her dedication to the NCR was legendary. She was on the propaganda posters, in the Newspaper headlines- hell, I'd even seen a comic-book with her likeness on the cover! They never showed her face or said her name, but you could tell it was her by the way she stood, the flowing cape that they always had her wearing, and by the big, obnoxious labelling that said, on every portrayal, "THE SCOURGE OF KIEV," usually with a big blue rifle-crosshair next to it.

Not that I'd had mom read it for me. Or that I'd enjoyed it, and briefly aspired to be like Tandi until father convinced me that killing was bad.

Really what I'm saying is, I could pretend that I was above her, but the unfortunate fact remained: _She was a hero, and I was nothing._ It's hard to ignore the opinion of someone like that.

"So Ignore this boy- there could be a hundred of these men, there could be a _thousand,_ and it wouldn't matter to me. Not with all the lives I've ended, no. They are still only men. And these hands have broken **many** men..."

There was silence. The wind changed direction in the seconds that followed.

"You all done pretending to be scary?" asked Chomps, when some time had passed. She nodded and re-applied her gas mask. "Well then lemme explain why you'd best be turning back. See, we ain't worried about the convicts; we're worried about the _deathclaw_ infestation that they caused when they blew up the valley."

"Shit," muttered Gram. Chomps looked a little smug at that. Gram started pacing back and forth, glaring at the ground. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…!"

"I can kill deathclaws too," said Tandi, nonchalant. Chomps shook his head.

"Well, you can try, but- I'm warning you, there's a lot of em-" Tandi was already striding past him, sniper rifle slung over her shoulder. She gave us a confident nod goodbye.

"I'll be back when they're all dead!" Gram spit on the ground.

"Damn straight- give em hell, Tandi!"

"And, if you see an egg, would you mind hauling it back? Asking for a friend!" added Cook. But I don't reckon that Tandi heard her, cause she had already turned her back to us and started walking towards deathclaw territory. Chomps looked indifferent.

"You don't think she's actually gonna do it, do ya Hoplite?" asked Chomps, staring off after the ranger had climbed to the top of a large, rocky hill. Gram stared after her for a moment, then nodded. She disappeared over the crest.

"I've learned better than to doubt that old maid, Chomps. She lives up to the hype."

Suddenly, Chomps looked at me. I hadn't really been acknowledged thus far, so it caught me off guard when he looked into my eyes. Immediately, I broke eye contact and stared at the ground.

"Not sure I've seen you traveling with Gram before- you new to the business?" I started to reply, but Gram interrupted me.

"He's a Doctor! Gotta get Downtown for some reason, so we took him on for this run," said Gram. Chomps ignored him.

"Who are you _really,_ though- what's your name? Are you a doctor?" I looked up at him for a moment, not sure if I should answer, then looked back down. I hated it when people did stuff like this. To be fair, I also hated when other people tried to tell me who I was, but Gram hadn't said much.

"Isaac Saller. My father was a member of the Followers, so I... picked some things up along the way," I said, indicating my badge. For a few seconds, Chomps wore a look that was impossible for me to parse. Then, he broke into a wide smile, which was enough to scare me. _Why was he smiling? Did I say something stupid?_

"You're Lucas's boy, right?" He asked. I nodded; I'd be surprised, but apparently a lot of people had heard about father, and I had a bit of his likeness. It was a hard thing to live up to.

"You see, Lucas was a big name around here after the work he did in Novac. Saved the whole town from some sort of plague, or something. My wife Margaret was visiting at the time, and she invited him back here for the night when he finally decided that it was safe to let the residents travel again. An intimidating man to be around, but I was grateful- If it weren't for him, Margaret probably wouldn't have lived to fight at Hoover Dam- wouldn't have died a hero…" Chomps stared off into space for a while, then snapped back to the conversation. I felt a pang of sorrow for this strange old man. "Anyways, Lucas is a good man. Is he still working for the Followers? I haven't gotten a letter back from him in years."

I shook my head. "He's dead. A drunk courier from the Mojave Express came into town one night and shot him." Chomps didn't flinch.

"That's a damn shame. But, as I've learned, people come and go- be glad he managed to do so much good in his life before he died. Probably helped more people than everyone who's ever worked this quarry combined."

It was sort of disorienting to hear a complete stranger talking about my father like this. Like, I always knew that he was kind of important, but here this old man was talking about how my father had saved the life of his wife. I even vaguely remembered father talking about Novac, but he hadn't talked about it like it was anything but a little pit-stop, a side quest. Had he really impacted so many people?

In the time that I had been mentally absent from the conversation, Chomps had started walking to the front door of the main building, and Gram was currently walking the cart and the two Brahmin to a little stable area beside the main building. Judging by how far they got, I'd been standing around slack-jawed for a good twenty seconds.

Well, nothing new there. Trying not to look embarrassed, I casually (read: stiffly and suspiciously) jogged up behind the caravan.

"Wow, that quarry sure is abandoned! Can't imagine what it must've been like watching all those deathclaws come flooding in," I commented, even though I had actually been facing the opposite direction of the apparently deathclaw-infested mining quarry, and I actually _could_ imagine all of the deathclaws flooding in because it's a recurring nightmare of mine. I don't think anyone heard me except for maybe Cook, who was still sitting on the roof of the cart as it was secured beside the main building. She gave me a nod of acknowledgement as she stepped down from the roof, and sidled up next to the Brahmin. She led them up to a little wooden stable, much like the one we had behind the casino in Primm.

"Did we feed Flebe this morning? She keeps giving me the puppy eyes whenever I come near her," Cook said, indicating the larger of the two- Well, four Brahmin, depending on whether or not you counted each head as a separate entity. I wasn't exactly sure how that worked, though I'd noticed that each head seemed to be doing its own thing. Which one controlled the body? Did they both control the body?

Does it matter to the story I'm trying to tell? Probably not.

"Yeah, I fed and milked 'em both this morning. Though now that I think about it, Flebe probably hasn't had any water for a while. Hebe drank some when we stopped in Primm, but I think we forgot to water Flebe on account of _this guy_ ," said Gram, nodding in my direction. I snorted.

"Oh- Oh, I'm so sorry Flebe! I must admit, I weren't thinking much for your health when I got assaulted yesterday!" Gram looked like he was gonna try and say something, so I raised my voice. "I SURE DO HOPE that I can make it up to you someday, but I understand if that's too much to ask! Water's a precious thing in the Mojave, ain't it?." Both of the heads regarded me with dull interest for a moment. Gram gave me a punch in the shoulder.

"I wasn't insulting you, wise-guy! Just answering Cook's question."

"Oh, and while we're still on the subject, why don't you make it up to poor little Flebe by helping us pump him some water? I'm about to get started on dinner, and if he hasn't drank since the stop before Primm, he's probably going to collapse soon," said Cook, stroking Flebe's head. I gave her a nod of assent.

"Seems like the least I can do. Where's the pump?" I asked. Cook pointed at the corner of the wall we were standing beside.

"Behind here, there are a couple of water pumps and buckets. Just dump some water in the troughs, and be careful not to spill any- Chomps has chewed me out for that before," she said, and I raised a rectifying finger.

"Don't you mean... _chomped_ you out?" Cook broke into a toothy grin. Gram looked decidedly less amused.

"Look Gram- now we have a teammate who's even dorkier than me, and I think that _crossword puzzles_ are fun! I told you it would happen someday," said Cook. I took her comment with pride; Father had taught me the fine art of the awful pun when we were reading _Discworld_ together for the first time, and I'd been fabricating them since.

Come to think of it, can you believe that no one had shot me yet? Like, I might've done alright before the war, but I'm genuinely impressed with myself for surviving past my 12th birthday, given the world I grew up in and the many, many counterintuitive traits I possessed. It's a miracle that someone so insultingly naive, neurotic, and out of place as me managed to avoid getting blasted to pieces sometime between my birth and now!

As I prepared to make a retort, Cook disappeared into the main building, leaving me alone with Gram and the Brahmin. Gram nodded towards the water pumps.

"Better get to pumping," he said. I watched him slip through the partially opened front door and close it behind him, yanking it shut loud enough that I winced.

_Did I just get delegated?_ It sure felt like it. After a few moments of thinking, I decided I'd been delegated. Pretty tame, as far as hazing rituals go, though I was still surprised with the swiftness and efficiency with which the task had been dumped on my lap while the others went off to relax. Kinda reminded me of how mom roped her employees into going "above and beyond" for the business...

Ah well. It wouldn't hurt to do some mindless work to take my mind off of everything, and maybe I'd earn some brownie points for it. All that in mind, I headed around the back of the building, picked up a bucket, placed it under a rusty blue water-pump, and got to work extracting water from the Earth.

-Break-

I opened up the back door to the mess hall, and was immediately struck by the delicious smell of roasted meat wafting in from the kitchen. In the main hall, plates and silverware were being set out on a fancy wooden dinner table by a uniformed NCR soldier. Gram was sitting at one end of the table, while chomps sat across from him, and all of the other stools were unoccupied. I walked into the room a bit, and saw Cook and some lanky, sunburned young lady with brown hair and a ponytail arguing back and forth in the kitchen. I decided to listen in.

"… that isn't mole-rat meat, Jas! Just who the hell are you getting your meat from?"

"A very nice old lady, who just happens to not want to diverge her name to me." Cook glared accusingly at the woman, and she threw her hands up above her head. "Okay, fine, maybe that should have rung some alarm bells! But I can't believe it's actually…"

"Jas, that's _human meat_. You've been making meat pies out of human meat," Cook whisper-shouted. I don't think anyone else heard her, but my appetite shrank away just like that. Of course, now that I'd heard it, I had to investigate…

"What's this about some _human meat?_ We just find out about the secret of soylent-green or something?" I asked, stepping into the kitchen. Immediately, Cook pointed at a cut of meat on the counter. It didn't take me a magnifying glass to figure out what that was.

"Yep, that's people," I said, backing up a little bit. Jas looked betrayed.

"Are you sure? I mean, I guess I thought it was a little bit too beefy for mole rat meat, but it tasted kind of similar," murmured Jas. I nodded. She didn't sound nearly horrified enough to me.

"Trust me, I've seen human meat. My father and I performed a few autopsies when I was younger- that strip right _there_ is probably a cut from the inner thigh…" I said, indicating the larger of the two hunks of meat. I briefly examined the other one, adjusting my glasses and kneeling down to put my face a little bit closer to it. It had been cut down a bit, but I could still vaguely figure out where it came from. "…and I think the one beside it is from the bicep, but don't quote me on that. Someone cut the fat off the edges, so it could also be a different cut of meat off the humerus." The color was rapidly draining from Jas's face as she stared at the meat in question. Cook looked kinda curious as I was explaining the cuts, but seemed to get back to being angry with Jas pretty quickly.

"Anyways, it's like I told you last time- don't get your meat from people who you don't know and trust. They might be cannibals or something," said Cook. Jas crossed her arms.

"Fine. I'm not planning on sticking around here anyways. As soon as I get to my next stop, I'll get a new supplier. For now, I'll just have to sort out the human meat from the rest," she said. Cook rolled her eyes.

"Please. You've been here for at least a year now, I don't think you're leaving anytime soon."

"Jas, stop arguing with the guests! I don't know what it's about, but if it's holding up dinner then you better quit it!" shouted Chomps from the other room. Jas sighed dramatically.

"Alright, fine, I'll get a new supplier! If your ranger solves the deathclaw problem, maybe I can finally get back on the road to New Vegas, and then we won't even have to worry about it." Cook crossed her arms.

"Well, then you better start packing soon, cause Tandi is good at killing stuff. Bet you she gets back before we're done eating." She opened up the oven and grabbed a stray rag to pull out the contents. Jas grabbed a rag as well, and together they hauled out two platters, each of which contained a big cut of steaming Brahmin roast.

Sensing that I was in the way, I silently retreated from the kitchen and tried to find a seat among the rest of the guests in the dining room. Gram had moved to sit beside Chomps, and was halfway through a conversation with the old man, but he gave me a nod of acknowledgment as I sat down at the table. A young NCR soldier whose name I didn't know said something to the effect of, "welcome back," but I didn't quite catch it. One leg of my stool was shorter than the others, so I occupied myself tipping it up and down. A dangerous thing, on account of my stubby little legs.

"… Where do you think she went?" asked Gram. Chomps looked distressed. The little mole rat was crawling under the table, so I pet it on the head while I tried to figure out what they were talking about. It squeaked pleasantly as I stroked its nose.

"I don't know! She left a note, says she was going off to live life free from me and the NCR, but she didn't say what she was doing." Chomps put his elbows on the table, and let his chin rest in his hands. His eyes were watering, I noticed. Had his wife run away- _wait, no, she was dead._ His daughter then?

After a few seconds of silent tears, he stiffened his upper lip and sat back up. When he spoke, you could hear the tears.

"I'm worried about her, is all. Her mother did the same thing when she was that age, and that's how she met me, so I guess I should be happy for her- but it just ain't the same world it was all those years ago. I don't want to have my daughter disappear out there in the wasteland. I just love her so damn much..." Chomps started crying again, and Gram gave him a sympathetic squeeze.

So it was a daughter, then.

I tried not to accidentally catch anyone's gaze- I felt bad for Chomps, but I didn't know him well enough to try and comfort him. Whenever I tried to comfort people who I didn't know, I'd just make things worse. So, I stuck to treating people's physical symptoms. I'd never learned very much about psychology.

"The worst part is knowing that it's my fault she ran away. After her mother died, I guess I clung to her a little too tight- I put limits on her that she didn't need, told her to stop talking with friends I didn't like. Looking back, it's so easy to see where I was wrong, but I was so scared of losing her that I was blind to how much I was hurting her. Or, maybe I did see it and I didn't care. It's hard to remember now..."

In the corner of my vision, I could see the two chefs emerging from the kitchen, carrying their platters of vegetables and roast Brahmin to the table. Chomps wiped his eyes, relaxed his posture, and tried not to look like he'd been crying as Cook and Jas set down the platters. I fought with myself to say something, to try to tell him that his daughter would be fine, because I knew I'd screw it up, but it was hard not to say something- the details were different, but it reminded me so much of what I'd done. _Was this how my mom felt right now?_ Was she worried that I'd been done in, and that it was her fault?

Simmering with emotions, I stayed silent and watched Cook and Jas heap slices of beef and vegetables onto the assorted plates sitting around the table. I muttered my thanks to Jas as she served me two slices of meat and some unidentifiable vegetables. As was customary in the Saller household, I held off eating until everyone had sat down. The NCR soldier didn't even bother, slicing up his steak and spearing one of his vegetables as soon as the food was laid before him. He was the odd one out, actually- everyone else waited until Jas and Cook had sat, though only Jas and Chomps kept waiting even after that. As everyone prepared to eat, Chomps cleared his throat, and all eyes fell on him. He looked like he had recovered somewhat, but I still felt uneasy seeing him get ready to speak so soon after all that emotion. _Was he gonna start crying again?_

"Now, I know that most of you don't believe in any sort of God- I have to admit, I've had my doubts too. But, I was raised to say a prayer before I eat, and I intend to carry on the tradition until the day I die. I invite everyone here to pray with me if you know the words, or give a silent prayer if you don't. We haven't necessarily been lucky here in Sloan lately, but let's all tell the lord how grateful we are for what we've still got..."

I didn't believe in god- still don't, probably never will- but I ain't no asshole neither, and I was pretty sure I knew the prayer that he was talking about. My father had read the Bible with me as a kid, because he was a big fan of Jesus and all that, and the McBain's had taught me the dinner prayer when I stayed with them for a while. So, calling on knowledge that I hadn't used in years, I put my hands together, bowed my head, and started talking with God.

" _Bless us, Oh Lord…_ " Chomps began. Jas, the NCR soldier and I recited it with him, while Gram had his own silent prayer. Cook just looked annoyed the whole way through.

". _.. and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from thy bounty, through Christ our Lord._ " Everyone was silent for a moment.

"Amen," Said Chomps. I nodded.

"Amen!" we said, and then a huge chunk of the wall exploded inwards in a shower of rocks, wood, and pink-insulation foam, peppering us all with debris. Everyone sat in shocked silence as the dust cleared, and a massive white deathclaw appeared in the hole.

Yeah, well, fuck you too, God! Don't suppose you're offering prayer-refunds these days?

[+]


	7. The Worst Thing Ever

(+)7

2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

14302 BYTES FREE

HOLLOWTAPE LOADED: "THE-WORST-THING-EVER"

INITIALISING….

SUCCESS!

**STATUS**

Battery Level: 42%

Wireless Signal: (?)

Operating Temperature: 92F

**HEALTH**

BP: 170/130

SPO2: 100%

Temp: 99.5F  
  
RR: 28

HR: 185

**TIME**

Day: 24 SEP. 2279

Time: 16:10

**CLIMATE**

Current Temperature: 76 F

Atmospheric Pressure: 750 mm

Background Radiation: 1.321 RAD

**WARNING: Dangerous wasteland creature in range!**

* * *

Yeah, no shit, Sherlock! Why don't you tell me my chance of survival as a percentage too?

I'd been tipping back in my chair when the wall exploded, so now I was sitting on my ass in a state of total mental shock, slowly butt-scooting my way backwards. The NCR soldier who I'd been sitting beside popped up, knocking his stool over in the process.

" _Ayuda_!" he shouted. He was shooting his rifle, but it wasn't making any noise. He screamed something about shit ammo and started yanking on the charging bolt.

Amongst the wreckage, Tandi tried to stand back up. How she survived an impact like that was beyond me, but I wasn't about to point that out. She turned her head to look at Gram.

"Gram, get the-" she started. Before she could finish, the big white reptile threw itself directly at her, knocking over the entire table and crushing Cook and Jas as Tandi rolled out of the way, trailing pink insulation foam behind her. Gram sprinted past me and started clambering up the stairs to the second floor, leaving poor Chomps sitting in stunned silence.

The deathclaw reared around to face Tandi, who had drawn a six-gun from her hip.

"Fuck off, _cyka_!" shouted Tandi, and emptied it directly into his face, shattering his jaw and blasting off his nose.

The gunshots, the shrieks of the injured beast, the dust that was gathering in the air... it was all so overwhelming! I'd never been so close to anything so dangerous, and my whole body was screaming at me to run for my life, but I just couldn't send the signals to my muscles. I couldn't move, couldn't shout, couldn't breath...

The beast lunged at Tandi again, and she caught him by his arm _and snapped it against her leg_ , then grabbed onto his broken jaw and forced it into the back of his throat. He immediately swung his other hand at her, impaling her through her forearm and thigh. He probably would have disemboweled her in the next motion, but was interrupted by a sudden hail of gunfire.

My eardrums pounded as the soldier fired shot after shot from his now-functional rifle, striking the deathclaw all across it's back and arms, poking lots of inconsequential little holes in the thing. By the end of the magazine, I couldn't hear anything but a loud ringing, so I didn't even get to hear the soldier's scream as the Deathclaw reeled around and folded him against the wall, taking all the life out of his body and sending him tumbling to the ground in a way that made it clear that he'd not be getting back up. The beast stalked over to him...

And in Came chomps like a goddamn pro wrestler, swinging a stool over his head like a sledgehammer. The beast didn't even bother to turn around as it raked Chomps across his entire upper body with its good claw. I could see the blood running down his face as Chomps stumbled backwards into the fallen table and fell onto his back, trying to figure out which of his massive wounds to clutch as he writhed about with his legs in the air.

Then, the thing turned it's whole upper body to face me. Our eyes connected.

Have you ever been so scared that you choked on your own spit? Because, as the beast stared at me with its one remaining eye, I distinctly remember gagging so hard that I started choking on my own spit.

It started walking towards me- a big, ghost-white beast, stained all over with its own blood, all its parts hanging loose- and I involuntarily let out a mix between a wet cough and a squeal. More logic-defying noises escaped my mouth as I scrambled for the stairs, trying and failing to stand up in the process. But it wasn't me who the deathclaw was keying in on now- It was Gram, standing behind me on the stairwell with a laser gun.

"Cover your ears, Boy!" He shouted over the ringing, and I followed his advice. I pressed my hands against my ears and shut my eyes.

Next thing I felt was heat on my skin- wasn't no light, but there was heat alright! Heat and a noise like a can of sarsaparilla taking a fifty cal right in the center! Drops of hot liquid splashed across my skin.

Next thing that hit were the smells. Burning fat, a delicious dinner and clouds of gunpowder, pools of coagulating blood and bodily fluids; The sounds- screaming, shouting, sobbing, and there was that damn ringing in my ears! My head hurt too, and my skin was all hot and prickly. I swear I could feel my chest caving in, I was breathing so hard…

" _Isaac! Isaac, get moving, people are dying! ISAAC!_ "

Someone hit me in the back of the head, so I turned around and bit them as hard as I could. I could taste blood so _vividly,_ as they pulled their hand back, putting them off balance. I grabbed the wrinkled, bleeding hand and yanked it forward, pulling its owner down the stairs and onto the floor. Someone walked up to me and tried to say something to me so I started screaming as loud and hard as I could, until they backed away.

Then it struck me- the deathclaw was dead. It's head had been hollowed out, pieces scattered all over the room. No one was even paying attention to me as I beat the ever living shit out of Gram, who had probably just saved my life. They all had their own problems.

I was hyperventilating, I realized, and it was making my vision go dark around the edges. I tried to regulate my breathing as I scanned the room, wondering what the hell I was supposed to do first. But it was hard- so, _so_ hard with all the ringing, and the prickly hot feeling on my skin and the static in my head!

Where to start? I started compiling a mental list of all the problems that I had to fix, or "doing triage," as my father would have said. In my head, it looked something like this:

I'd hurt **Gram** after he hit me in the back of the head, but he was already getting back up.

**Cook** was lying underneath a table, wheezing and trying to get it off her chest- she was probably having trouble breathing, but **Jas** was helping her at the moment, and she was making noise so it couldn't be _that_ bad.

  
**  
The NCR soldier** was in a bad way, probably got his back broke. I couldn't tell if the blood all over his back was his or the deathclaws, which warranted a closer look, but there was still air going through his body so I'd put him on the back burner for now.

That left **Tandi** and **Chomps** , the two with the nastiest wounds. If the claw had hit his throat, Chomps would be dead very soon, if he wasn't dead already. I decided to deal with him first. Ignoring Gram's muttered insults, I stalked across the room and fell down on one knee beside the old man. There was a frightening amount of blood pooling around his head, and my heart rate picked up when I dragged him on his side and gave him a quick once over.

Three parallel gashes- One deep wound across his stomach, one relatively shallow one across his upper chest and collarbone, and one across his forehead that was bleeding profusely but which had stopped at the skull. I saw no signs of life-threatening bleeding, though his intestines were poking out through the stomach wound. I motioned towards Gram.

"Gemme a wet towel." In spite of what I'd done to him, he didn't argue with me, disappearing into the kitchen without a word. I looked back at Chomps. I'd been an idiot and left my medical kit in the cart, so my emergency treatment was going to have to be improvised. I didn't like that, but I wasn't about to leave any of the people in the room to go get the kit. I'd have to make do for the moment.

First step would be to remove the clothes around the evisceration. How was I going to do that? I couldn't just pull off his overalls. I'd have to cut through them. What options did I have for cutting? My utility knife was in my medical pouch. But, when they'd set the table, there had been steak knives…

_Find a steak knife,_ I told myself, and started scanning the floor. I could faintly hear the back door open as Gram headed outside to pump water on a towel, which I'd use to dress the evisceration. _Steak knife, steak knife…_

Amidst the debris, I found a fork and steak knife lying together, so I took both just in case I ended up needing the fork for something. After putting a quick gash in the pale, unfeeling strip of skin on my forearm to get a feel for the knife's cutting edge, I leaned back over Chomps and slid the knife against his blood-soaked denim. It took a bit of force, but once I had cut through the tough edge, it became a lot easier to run my knife through the worn material. I cut out a rough square of cloth all around his chest, and carefully peeled it off his sticky, bloody skin. Poor man was conscious, I noticed, but he wasn't saying nothing. Just watching.

"Don't try and move. Your guts weren't ripped, but they might be if you start squirming. No matter how much it hurts, you gotta stand still," I said, tearing off the loose strip of overalls and bunching it up into a makeshift rag for later. It wasn't sanitary, but it'd have to do.

Gram came back in shortly after, carrying several ragged towels soaked in water. I gave him a nod of acknowledgment and held my arms out for Gram to drop the towels into. Not stopping to check his trajectory, Gram tossed the load in my arms, and continued walking until he reached Tandi. He knelt down beside her.

"Toss me the pip boy!" He shouted. I was confused for a second, then remembered the medical profiles I'd created. Quick as I could, I logged off the pip-boy, and tossed it underhanded to Gram. I didn't wait to see if he caught it.

"Remember: Don't move," I said, laying the wet towel across Chomps's jutting intestines. He winced as the towel touched the wound, but he didn't squirm. Don't think there was much that could've made Chomps squirm.

"You're doing great!" I told him, securing the towel around the edges. I checked the rest of his wounds. His airway was swell, and the leaks in his forehead and chest weren't gonna kill him. Which means he was as stable as he was going to get, without a stimpack. "I'll come back to you soon. I need to check the soldier…"

"No, Fuck that guy! Tandi's been thrown through a goddamn wall!" shouted Gram, but it sounded quiet next to the ringing in my ears. I rubbed my temples. Jas had gotten the table off of Cook, and was doing what I guessed to be a misguided attempt at CPR on her, for some reason. Probably because she was complaining about breathing? First things first, I needed to put a stop to that.

" _Jas, does Cook have a pulse_?" I asked, barely able to hear my own voice. Jas nodded.

"Yeah, but she says that she can't breathe, so I'm doing-"

"Stop doing that! CPR is for dead people!" Jas didn't complain no more, instead standing up and going to examine the NCR soldier. If Gram was telling the truth, I didn't have time to worry about how Jas was going to screw him up, so I ignored her and hurried over to Tandi. Surprisingly, she was still conscious. She gave me a weak middle finger as I sat down.

"Helmet off- stop moving it if she complains about her neck," I said. Gram complied immediately. Tandi didn't have anything to say as the helmet came off, revealing her sweaty, mutilated face. There were no new injuries there, though it was still as shocking as ever.

"Where's it hurt, Tandi? Is your back okay?" I asked. She looked up at me like I was stupid.

"No, I'm completely paralyzed. Dumb whore..." I rolled my eyes.

"Surely, I am as dumb as they come! But, the pip-boy says you've got internal bleeding, and it's still figuring out where. Where're you hurtin' at?" Tandi laughed a little.

"Internal? Then it's in the right place." I shook my head and inspected her pip-boy image. There were so many warnings that it was impossible to try to interpret them all. I suddenly really wished I could read, even just a little more.

"Tandi, this is life or death! Where did it-" Suddenly, the image on the screen changed. The pip boy beeped, and a blinking warning sign appeared dead in the center of her character's chest. The BP stat, I noticed, was _down_ from the last measurement.

"Y'have no idea how often people say that. Anyways, he hit me-" she started. I began to pull off her coat. I elbowed Gram in the shoulder, and pointed at the stricken woman.

"Strip her down. Tandi, please help as much as you can!" She gave me a suspicious look.

"And what if I don't want you exploring all up in my nooks-and-crannies?"

"Tandi, something is very fucking wrong! Help me take the armor off!" She clutched her wounded leg and growled at me.

"...Aggghhh, Fine! But I'll kill you afterwards."

Gram worked on taking off the armor supporting her back, while I removed her dented chest-plate. Once I'd gotten that free, I took off her shirt, Gram removed her baggy jeans, and we got to work freeing her armor harnesses. When one of the clips got stuck, I picked up my steaknife from the ground and sliced through the whole strap. It was surprisingly easy to cut through, I guess for emergency situations like this. Once I got that off, Tandi was left in her sportswear. I removed her chest wrapping on account of some bruising in that area. Her knickers weren't covering nothing up, so I left those alone.

The full picture was distressing, real distressing. Amongst Tandi's considerable collection of old scars, there were several huge, rapidly swelling patches of yellow, purplish skin all over her body, the biggest of which was right over her heart. I pulled my stethoscope off my neck and plugged it into my ears- had em backwards, got them in the right way and then checked around for her heartbeat, and got back a faint, muffled noise. Combined with her wormlike neck veins and the fact that I couldn't even get a pulse on her femoral at this point, that made Beck's Triad. Father always told me I'd never be able to diagnose tamponade like that on a real clinical exam, but here were all three symptoms, sticking out like a compound fracture.

"Oh no," I breathed. I tried to compose myself, but panic was already overtaking my mind. Before I even spoke, I could hear my voice cracking. "Jas! Get- uh, break into the wagon out back, and grab the orange bag and the other one, the other emergency-looking one. Bring em back fast!" Jas looked at her fallen companion, who she had sat up against the wall, then at the door, then at me. Slowly, she stood up, walked away from the unconscious soldier, and exited out the back door, picking up speed as she went.

Preparing myself for what came next, I placed the cold knife against Tandi's bare, swollen chest, and started counting ribs. _One, two, three, four, five..._ The tip came to a rest beneath her right breast.

"What are you doing?" She asked. I pressed the knife a bit harder, seeing how hard I'd need to press to cut her sweaty skin. _Not very._ A drop of blood seeped out from under the knife.

"There's blood gathering in the lining around your heart, Tandi. I gotta open your chest up to fix you." Tandi's eyes opened wide.

"What- **NO!** "

I felt her grab onto my wrist, but she was late; I'd already abandoned any doubts that might've been left in my head and punched my knife through her chest, right by her sternum. A primal scream filled my ears as I dragged the blade through the layers of skin and fat, all the way to her shoulder blade. I shoved my hand into her intercostal space.

"Spread her ribs and hold 'em," I grunted. Gram made a face.

"Oh, Christ..." Tandi continued to shriek in pain and squeeze my wrist as Gram spread the wound like a clam shell. I tried to wrap my fingers around her pulsating heart, but couldn't quite get at it. I pushed her lung aside.

"Stop it! _Da idi ty,_ fuck you! _Otvyazhis'_ _!_ " Tandi cried, but I didn't stop. I couldn't. It had to be done, or her pericardium would fill up with blood and squeeze her heart til it stopped beating. I kept digging around as the blood coursed over my hands and arms; I was slick up to the elbows with it.

"Anyone got a flashlight?" Gram shook his head. I swore and spit on the ground. That was gonna make this next part a lot harder.

Tandi kept on hollering and thrashing as I tried in vain to get a grip on the pericardial sac without also grabbing the throbbing heart inside. My fingers were too slippery to pinch it, so I pulled the dinner fork out of my pocket and hoisted the sac up that way. It slipped off the fork a couple times before I could get it in a good position, but once I had it pulled taught, I didn't waste any time opening it up between the phrenic nerves- Tandi was dying quick. She looked like she'd been drained by a vampire, and her shrieks of pain had already quieted down to confused sobbing.

"Ah hell Isaac, I don't know how long I can hold this! Could you hurry up?" grunted Gram. I could see the muscles straining beneath his skin, bulging in his face and neck. His arms were quaking.

"Yeah, sure! Now help me turn her over…" I put my hands on Tandi's back and worked with Gram to move her on her side, so the blood could leak out of her cavity. The floor was covered in the stuff by now, and it had streaked and smeared where she'd been struggling. I tried to ignore it as I got down on my hands and knees and stared into her wound. "Great. I'm gonna peek down here again, try and figure out where it's-"

Before I'd even finished my sentence, a gout of bright red blood sprayed out the cut I'd made in the pericardium, all over my chest and face. It dripped down my glasses like some sort of cheesy horror-movie effect.

"Doc! Hey, Doc, I've got the stuff!" I looked over my shoulder to see Jas stumbling in through the back door, carrying both the stimpack bag and my medical bag in her arms. I motioned for her to set them down next to me. "Um, there's a few stimpacks here, which should I-"

"Fuck it! It don't matter!" Something like a laugh rattled through my chest as I snatched the syringe out of Jas's hand. Tandi's heart coughed out another gob of blood, but I'd already moved to the side, and soon my hand was in the clamshell wound again. My fingers clawed for the source of the blood.

"I'm hurting bad!" grunted Gram. I started probing with my stimpack.

"Well don't let go, use a- I don't know, use anything!" I was hardly paying much attention to Gram at this point. I could feel the blood coursing over my fingers as they brushed over some artery, can't say which one, and I figured pretty quickly where the rupture was. I jabbed the stimpack in.

_And Missed._

I tried again, and missed. Which gave me that sinking feeling that you get in your stomach when you realize that you've not got much time, and your body just isn't the right machine for the task. Usually that came with a certain embarrassment, that telltale hotness of the skin, but not this time. This time, the hair on my arms stood up straight, and the sweat on my skin grew cold.

I looked over at Gram. His eyes were jammed shut, he'd bit through his upper lip- and his hands, shaking more than ever. My hands were shaking too. The animalistic energy that'd been carrying me through this had gone. For a moment, I was just a kid again, in over his head and scrambling for a way out.

But it was only a moment. Like a lumberjack throwing all his weight behind an axe, I took three more passionate stabs with the needle before piercing the artery. I had no hope of suturing it now, so I just hoped to high hell that pushing stimpack juice through the pipe and pinching the rupture shut with my nails would actually work. I'd made so many choices based on pure hope already, what was more on the pile?

The moment I pulled my hand out and discarded the empty stimpack, Gram grunted and collapsed on top of Tandi. He'd stopped holding the site open, but his fingers were still buried in the bleeding wound. His lungs rattled with each jagged breath.

"What- what should I do? Do you need help with her?" panted Jas, and I waved her away. I was panting too, panting and hot and covered in sweat and blood and god knows what else. I could feel my heart beating in every crevice of my aching body.

_But was Tandi's heart still beating?_

Her eyes were open and unreactive, her skin was pale and waxy. Seemed like she was breathing, but the hairs on my arms still stood up as I prodded around for a pulse near her groin; there was _nothing_ at first, then a faint squirming beneath my fingertips, and then nothing again. The skin felt cool as glass. I put my hand on Gram's back.

"What's her- check the pip boy, what's her BP say?" Gram lifted his head up just slightly to look at the pip boy screen.

"Seventy six and fifty." There was a solemn silence. "Is that…?"

"That's good. Better, I mean."

I wiped some of the sweat off my brow again. It was pointless, seeing as how I probably deposited a bunch of blood when I did it, but I had to let out all that relief somehow. I hadn't even been able to get a femoral pulse when I'd checked last time, which meant that her pressure had been somewhere below seventy. A jump back up to seventy six was good news.

Of course, Tandi's troubles weren't over- her pericardium was slit, she still had herself a gaping hole in the chest, and the cavity was still full of blood in spite of my efforts. I grabbed my hand-suction pump from out of my bag and hooked up the reservoir, plunged in the tip, and got to work squeezing. An onlooker might have thought that I was still putting in my all, but at this point, my mind was elsewhere. I glanced over my shoulder.

"Jas, you wanna be helpful, right?" I asked. I didn't wait for a response. "Prepare the worker's quarters for all these patients. I want beds, I want chamber pots, whatever we can get. And when you're done with that, you and me are gonna haul these folks upstairs."

Jas might've said something to me after that, but I couldn't hear it over the fuzz in my head, the static of stress. I looked around the room one last time, and I don't think I have to tell you the specifics of what I saw; just that I could tell right then that this would be, without a doubt, the longest night of my life.

[+]


	8. The Sanitarium

(+)8

2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

14302 BYTES FREE

HOLLOWTAPE LOADED: "THE-SANITARIUM"

INITIALISING….

SUCCESS!

**STATUS**

Battery Level: 12%

Wireless Signal: (?)

Operating Temperature: 92F

**HEALTH**

BP: 124/90

SPO2: 100%

Temp: 98.5F

RR: 15

HR: 80

**TIME**

Day: 25 SEP. 2279

Time: Far Too Fucking Late.

**CLIMATE**

Current Temperature: 73 F

Atmospheric Pressure: 732 mm

Background Radiation: 0.231 RAD

* * *

The lights were flickering- the air was hot. Every fan in the building was whirring at full speed, and the wind outside was howling, shaking the rickety wooden windows and blasting through the corrugated metal roof. Inside the grimy hospital room, little streaks of black, drying blood dripped down aluminum cots, where the morphine was flooding in through plastic IVs- clear liquid draining through clear, twisting tubes.

_And I was really, really tired._

My prediction about this being the longest night in my life had turned out to be right on the bottle-caps. Over the course of the last few hours, I'd worked with Gram and Jas to get all of the patients into the barracks, pulled together an operating room, and tried to keep my errant patients from getting hurt any further. Tried not to hurt myself any further either, what, with all the bruises I'd gathered during the chaos. I bruised real easy in some spots on account of that thing that I don't like to talk about.

Blinking away sleep, I surveyed the group. The least serious case was Cook; a couple of messed up ribs, nothing more. She gave me a friendly wave as I walked past her bedside.

"Howdy Cook. Painkillers working?" I asked, checking her morphine I.V. I'd decided on the dosage I needed using an old trick my father had taught me: one tenth of a milligram IV per 1 kilogram, with subsequent doses at half that number. Only complication I was worried about here would the respiratory depression of the morphine mingling with the possible respiratory distress from gettin' her lungs hurt, but as it stood that was a non-issue.

"Mhm- Actually, I think I feel better than I did _before_ the deathclaw threw a table at me!" She gave me a coy little smile. "But, you know, if you wanted to up the dosage a little, I wouldn't complain..."

"Ain't worth a prayer," I said. She stuck out her bottom lip.

"Why not?"

"Well, cause clean Morphine powder is expensive! Hell, you'd have to be crazy to think I'd waste my caps getting you extra high!" She laughed at that- well, tried to laugh at it, but let out this awful cough-laugh instead, which descended into a fit of loud, dry coughs. She was clutching at her chest when it was finally over, and her head was hanging back. She wasn't smiling no more.

"Ah shit, You alright!? Or wait, don't answer me yet, you just- just take your time there..." Behind me, Jas was skipping through the doorway, singing a song I didn't recognize under her breath.

"... _When you're chewing on life's Gristle, don't grumble- give a whistle! And this'll help things turn-out for-the-best._ _Aaanddd…_ **Al-ways look on, the bright side of life** \- _boo doo, boo doo, boo doo doo doo do doo!_ "

I didn't know the song, but I was pretty sure that the "doo"s were supposed to be whistles, only Jas didn't know how to whistle. Of course, neither did I, but I didn't go around trying to sing songs that needed whistling now did I?

I focused my attention on Cook again. Her eyes were watering, and she looked to be in so much pain, and I knew it was kind of my fault for making her laugh. I'd normally just say sorry in this kind of situation, but something strange was going on with my head. I felt a compulsion that I'd not felt much before.

"Can I squeeze your hand?" She squinted up at me.

"What?"

"I feel sorry. I'd like to squeeze your hand."

That must have been a strange thing to say, because after that she just stared at me. Not awkwardly, mind you, but just sorta trying to figure me out, like a cardiologist interpreting a bizarre heart rhythm. There was a scary little fluttering in my stomach as she looked me up and down, and I worried that maybe I crossed a boundary. Some folks do not like to be touched.

"If you'd like," she said, a few watch-ticks later. I breathed a sigh of relief as her hand strayed out over the edge of her cot, and I knelt down to her level and took it. We both squeezed.

There's something calming about squeezing someone's hand. It's like a hug in a lot of ways, at least for me. It takes me out of the wasteland and puts me somewhere happier, even if just for a moment.

As soon as she released me I stumbled trying to stand, slipping on the greasy floor and falling straight onto my butt. I managed to catch myself before I could fall any further, but I'm pretty sure I gave myself a tiny little splinter as I threw my hands out behind me and splayed my fingers across the rough wooden floor.

Trying to seem like I wasn't embarrassed, I stood back up and pulled on my coat a few times. I don't reckon I was very convincing.

"Did I squeeze a little too hard?" she asked, and I almost just said, " _no,_ " then realized she was joking. I thought about a witty way to respond to that, couldn't think of anything, and instead started searching for _any_ way to respond.

"No, see, you're fine. I'm just a little broken is all," I said, taking one foot off the ground and swinging my leg on the joint. As usual, it took just an extra millisecond or two to respond to my commands. That wasn't a problem if I was just trying to walk, but it really screwed me when it came to fine motor movements. Drawing, writing, talking, running, and, in the past, operating. I'd gotten pretty good at compensating for it in my hands, but I still had problems with keeping my balance, and moving in nonstandard ways.

Father had called it apraxia, said it was somehow tied to whatever was wrong with my head. Delayed firing of the neurons to the muscles, resulting in… well, I guess I just told you what it meant for me. Lots of big delays. Still, considering the fact that I didn't learn to walk until I was five, and I couldn't speak any sort of comprehensible language until a few years after I'd reached that impressive landmark, I thought I was doing pretty damn good for myself.

"Um, Isaac? You okay there?" Asked Cook. I shook myself awake.

"Yeah, sorry. It's been a long day. I'm kinda running on smelling salts and caffeine right now…" That was really not the intended use of the ammonia inhalants nor the caffeine citrate, but seeing as how neither of them had ever been any help outside of that context, I didn't feel too guilty. Cook nodded sympathetically.

"You're doing good Isaac. I guess it would be too much to ask for you to stay with me for a while?" I shook my head.

"I can't. I'm awful sorry, but literally everyone else here is doing worse than you. I'm worried that their condition might get worse if I don't keep an eye on them." Cook looked mildly disappointed. "But… I'd love to talk with you more sometime! Preferably when we're both in a normal state of mind." I gave her a little smile and poked her morphine-bag. She contrived to look offended.

"I'm not that high," said Cook. I nodded.

"Sure, sure. I'm going to go check on the others, is there anything other than company that you need?" She sighed and laid her hands on her stomach.

"Noooo, not really. I'm kind of hungry, but I feel like it might hurt to eat…" She gave her belly a mournful pat. "Anyways, ciao I guess. Good luck tonight."

"Thanks! I'll talk to you tomorrow, Cook-" I started to say, then stopped as I tried to recall her name. Had she told me her name? Did she even have a name besides Cook? It felt kind of demeaning to keep calling her that, now that I actually kind of knew her. I cocked my head. "Actually, what is your name? Everyone keeps calling you Cook, but that's not really a name."

Cook responded to that with uncomfortable silence, averting her eyes much like I did when I was nervous. My heart rate picked up as I waited, wondering if I might've struck a nerve. She'd mentioned before that she was from a tribe- I didn't get the impression that she held pleasant memories of it. She'd said that she was glad that Gram took her in, got her away from it all. Had I just brought up a bunch of traumatic memories?

"… Savanna," she said, at last. I closed my eyes, and exhaled. If I would've looked at my pip-boy, I bet I would've seen my speech-skill go up or something. I gave Savanna a nod of acknowledgment.

"Splendid. Talk to you later, Savanna!" I said, walking towards the next cot before I could get sidetracked any more. I'd set up little dividers between each of the beds using the mildew-covered towels from the kitchen, which I was beginning to regret as the smell of the towels mixed with the smell of Chomps Lewis hit me right in the soul.

"How are we holding up, Mr. Lewis?" I asked, plugging my nose as I entered his space. The stimpak I'd hooked him up to had sealed off his flesh wounds, but the smell of his stomach-contents still lingered around him from when his intestines had been falling out of his body.

Chomps blinked at me- he was sweating, I noticed. Not profusely, but enough that his skin was glistening. I tried to put a hand on his forehead, but he shooed me away, shaking his head and weakly waving one of his arms. I put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. He was trying to be brave, but I could tell that he was hurting. His arm was so tense, the muscles strained beyond belief… He relaxed a bit as I massaged his bicep.

"When's it gonna be over, Isaac? The morphine ain't working, and I haven't stopped throwing up since I laid down. Am I gonna stay like this all night?" He asked, placing both his hands on his gut. Gently, I brushed his hands aside.

"Careful, Mr. Lewis- don't wanna disrupt the IV-flow," I said. He nodded weakly. "As for the pain and the sorta cold, tingly feeling: that's the stimpack sewing you back up, and fighting the infections in your tummy. Your stomach'll be done healing by the end of the night, if not before then, but you'll probably feel sick for the next couple of weeks. Not this sick, but still awful sick. You may wish for death," I admitted. Chomps sighed.

"Well then this will be a hard few weeks for me. The whole rest of the quarry is on vacation on account of the deathclaws, and I still don't know how my daughter's doing. At least I've got Jas to take care of me…" Chomps paused. He looked over at the divider to his right, where the NCR soldier laid on the other side. Chomps pursed his lips. "How's Tyrone doing? I saw him get thrown against the wall, and I wasn't sure if he…"

"He's fine," I said, and, surprisingly, I meant it- he'd bled a lot from his head, but it was all superficial; No racoon eyes, no battle-sign, and no cerebrospinal halo on his bloodsoaked pillow, so I didn't suspect a basilar skull fracture. His posturing was perfectly natural, his reflexes checked out. At worst, he might've suffered a concussion. He'd shown some brief lucidity during my assessment, but he hadn't properly woken up yet. I wasn't about to rush him.

"You sure? That looked like a pretty tough hit he took," Chomps said. I nodded.

"I'm sure. You got it a lot worse than him." I looked down at the tin bucket beside his bed, which was brimming over with puke. I gestured towards it.

"You want me to…" He nodded.

"Didn't want to ask."

Careful not to spill any of the putrid sludge, I picked the bucket up by the handle, and staggered over towards the window, walking past my other two patients in the process. Once I was sure I wasn't going to drop the bucket, I heaved it up onto the windowsill, spilling a bit of puke on my leg. Barely registering my mistake, I held the bucket by the rim and dumped it out the window. It was dark outside, but I could see it splashing and glistening in the sand as impacted the ground and started to pool. I didn't feel like scraping off the solids, so I just let the big chunks slide out, and carried the tainted bucket back to Mr. Lewis's bedside.

"Anything else you need?" I shouted, letting the bucket drop with a quiet, "clang". Chomps shook his head.

"I'm feeling kind of hungry, but I'll hold off on that until my stomach's all healed. I don't wanna be sick any longer than I got to," he replied. I nodded. I was a little hungry too, if I was being honest with myself, but I was trying not to let it get to me. I had been just inches away from taking a bite of delicious steak when the deathclaw attacked...

"Good. I'm off to visit the others. G'night!" I said, and walked to the next cot. The NCR soldier- Tyrone, I'd learned, lay asleep in his cot, hooked up to a bit of morphine and nothing else. As quickly as I could, I stepped up beside him, plugged my stethoscope into my ears, and checked his vitals- breathing and heart-rate normal, circulation normal, airway unobstructed, obviously. BP was average for a boy his age. His morphine dose was low, and the drip was still going at the proper rate. He had wet himself, I noticed, but I could deal with that when he woke up. In the meantime, I wanted to check on Tandi, the patient who had come the closest to dying on the spot.

"You awake?" I asked, stepping around the divider and kneeling beside Tandi's bedside. In response, Tandi stuck one middle-finger up in my direction, then let it flop back down. Pretending not to notice, I stood back up and walked to the other side of her bed, where I could at least see her face. As soon as I started to sit down, she turned her head away from me.

"Suck my dick," she said.

I opened my mouth to speak-

"Suck my dick!"

I sighed.

"Tandi, I'm-"

"Fuuuuck you!" She groaned, stuffing her head into her pillow. I rubbed my temples.

"Tandi, I just want to know how you're doing. I've never done anything like that before, and I want to make sure I didn't screw anything up," I said. I wanted to put a hand on her shoulder and say something nice, like I had with Chomps, but after seeing her call an albino deathclaw a bitch and snap it's arm like a twig, I had my doubts that I'd survive the night with both hands. So, I kept them to myself. "Please?"

Finally, she turned to me, and I realized that she had been crying. Her one functional eye was red and glistening, and I could see a steady stream of clear reddish-liquid coming out of her broken eye. Hands shaking, she brushed away the tears with fingers.

"You know, no one has ever _hurt_ me like that, and gotten away with it? Last person who tried to take my body away from me, I cut him open- But here you are, all smug and smiling! And soon you'll say it was for my own good, and they'll believe you, but I won't. I will still **hate** you, because-"

"I couldn't- I couldn't let you-" I tried to say, but then she threw her leg out and kicked me in the ribcage, _hard._ I went reeling backwards, clenching my teeth and trying not to knock over her hospital divider. It took everything I had to not shout out in pain.

"-Because I would've rather _DIED_ , if I'd known what you were going to do!"

She stopped to breathe. I tried to step back, but she grabbed me by the tie and yanked me forward. My eyes locked onto hers. "And Gram, he was supposed to protect me! Double-crossing bitch promised me, he promised that after what the legion did, he'd never let anyone break me again. And there he was, stripping me bare and sticking his hands in my guts, bathing himself in my blood…"

"I'm so sorry," I said, quietly. I'd never felt like such a lousy bastard in my entire life. No one had ever looked at me like Tandi was looking at me now, and I could feel my self-image crumbling. To her, I was a villain; not a badass disco doctor, but an oily little snake.

I tried to look away, but it was impossible- Tandi was physically holding me in place, and I felt like she was holding onto my eyes the same way. Like if I looked away, she could just yank my gaze back to her. I let out a shaky breath. This was all so sudden, so violent- how could I possibly address everything she was saying? All the things that she was right about?

"Tandi, I- I don't even know what to say. But, I want you to know that I understand you." She tightened her grip. I wouldn't let myself tense up, though. I tried to remain relaxed. "Everyone deserves a choice, and I promise that I didn't mean to take yours away! If I'd have known what this would do to you, I wouldn't have operated," I closed my eyes. "I swear."

"You would've let me die?" She wasn't crying no more, but tears still stained her flushed cheeks. I shook my head.

"I would've found another way. I always find a way! But I was scared, panicking- I didn't want you to die, so I did what I was trained to do! God, I feel real bad for saying that, but it's true- I've spent so long preparing, and when it happened, I wasn't thinking about no morals, or ethics, I just wanted to get the job done. I wanted to save your life."

Tandi released me, and I stumbled backwards, bumping into the divider and then falling onto my hands and knees. I tried in vain to dig my fingers into the wood, and clenched my teeth. I wasn't crying- not yet, at least, but I was dripping sweat from my forehead, and it probably looked like I was. I decided to stay like that, though, since it meant I wouldn't have to look her in the eyes. Above me, I could hear Tandi growl.

"You know what? Fuck you. You're nothing to me anyways. Hurt me again, and I will kill you."

"Yes, ma'am. I won't hurt you again," I said, holding back the tears, trying to keep a stiff upper lip. I sat in silence for a while, until Tandi kicked the side of her metal cot with a loud "CLANG!"

" **GO!** Get the hell out!" She bellowed, and I scrambled to my feet, hoisting my bag up with me. Not bothering to acknowledge Jas's concerned little "ums", I kicked open the door and walked onto the stairwell, where I clambered down the stairs and into the dining room. Once I hit the bottom of the stairs, I fell onto my butt and tossed my medical case aside. If someone needed help, they'd tell Jas, which admittedly could have disastrous consequences, but I didn't really care. After that little exchange, I needed some time to myself.

The dining room still smelled like blood and gunpowder, and the dismembered deathclaw still lay in pieces on the ground, head blasted apart by Gram's laser gun. But, it wasn't all bad- the dust had settled, the blood had dried, and the surviving food had been hung outside to be turned into jerky. I'd even managed to sneak a couple of pieces of mystery-vegetable off the ground during the cleanup phase, though I hadn't had the stomach to actually eat them. Now that I had some time to myself, I removed one of the stalky greens from my inner coat pocket and bit down on it. It was cold, now, but it still tasted good- the juice from the Brahmin steak had clearly soaked into it, and the thing didn't carry much of a flavor on its own.

"Enjoying your vegetables, Isaac?"

Trying not to spit out the delicious food, I whipped my head around to see Gram in the back of the room, leaning against the back door. He was holding a smoking cigar between his thumb and fingers. I nodded sheepishly.

"Man's gotta eat. Ain't you supposed to be packing the caravan?" I asked, finishing my snack and wiping my mouth with my sleeve. Gram took a puff on his cigar.

"Oh, that's been done. If everyone is ready, we're heading out in the morning. I didn't want to go this way, but clearly we ain't equipped to deal with deathclaws." Well, tomorrow morning would be pushing it, but given that Savanna had gotten a stimpak earlier, and Tandi was currently hooked up to a creatively named, "super-stimpak," they'd both be relatively well healed by noon. I suspected that Tandi might not be in walking shape for a few days due to the side effects of the super-stimpak, and because she'd lost a _lot_ of blood. Super stimpaks give your body the energy and the instructions to produce more blood, which was all fine and dandy, but Tandi's pip-boy profile told me that she had lost _34% of the stuff_. Replacing all that blood takes time and energy.

"I'd plan for leaving a little after noon. But, yeah, I think we're good for tomorrow." Gram gave me a nod of acknowledgment, and blew out a plume of smoke. Once he had put his cigar back in his mouth, he started walking towards me. I was very confused for a moment, then I realized that he was actually walking towards the front door. Trailing smoke behind him, he opened it up.

"Why don't we step outside for a moment? You've been cooped up all day, why don't we catch some of that fresh night-time air?"

Not quite sure what he was getting at, I stood up from my comfortable position on the stairs, and followed him out the front door. He let it slam behind him as we walked out onto the cool asphalt of the highway at night.

The only lights were the moon, and the faint stars in the sky- those that managed to poke through the clouds, anyways. We started walking, me in front of Gram. The warm, muggy air felt nice against my skin.

"Watch out for the puke," I said, stepping over the puddle of vomit that I'd dumped out the window. Gram followed suit.

"I heard you talking with Tandi, earlier. She alright?" Gram asked. I shook my head.

"No, she's really not. I think that what I did reminded her too much of something that the legion did to her in the past." I stopped for a moment, to look Gram in the eyes. It was hard to read that look in the dark, but I didn't see any sympathy there. I looked away and continued. "She wasn't too happy with you either. Thought that you were breaking some sort of promise, holding her open like that."

I looked up at the sky. It was awful clear, given the season. I could see the brilliant outline of the milky-way galaxy in the spaces between the clouds. If I weren't thinking so much about Tandi, I probably would've started wondering which of those millions of stars was the closest.

Gram didn't stop walking, but he slowed down enough that I could easily catch up to him. Tearing my gaze away from the sky, I jogged up beside Gram, and we continued to walk down the highway. I could feel a cloud of smoke curling around me as Gram removed the cigar from his mouth, and blew out the scented smog. It wasn't necessarily a good smell, but I didn't hate it- mostly, it just smelled like smoke, with a little bit of Life mixed in. I closed my eyes as the wind picked up and it blew past my face.

"How do you feel about that, Isaac? You feel like I did something wrong? You feel like _you_ did something wrong?" Gram asked. I thought about that for a little while.

"I don't know," I concluded. When Gram didn't respond, I decided to elaborate. "See, I've always felt like everyone should have their own choice, no matter how stupid it is. I've always hated it when people- or, governments, or anything- tries to take my choices away from me, even when they say it's for my own good- _especially_ when they say it's for my own good. So, I can't really use that argument…"

We'd reached the spot on the highway that was overlooking the deathclaw infested quarry now- a giant, man-made hole full of diggers and cranes and chutes and giant boulders and the like. As I came near the edge, Gram gently grabbed my arm and turned us around. We started walking back the way we came.

"...But, on the other hand, she would've died if I hadn't done _something._ And, in the heat of the moment, I wasn't really thinking much about her feelings. I couldn't have, and I'd be lying to myself if I said that I'd had time to do that. Hell, until tonight, I didn't know she _had_ feelings _!"_ I said, throwing my arms out to convey my stress. I sighed. "It's complicated, I guess. How do you feel about it?"

Gram chuckled. His laugh was surprisingly hearty and full, given his raspy voice. I'd expected him to sound like the little green guy from star-wars when he laughed, but it wasn't anything like that. It was sort of like father's laugh, as It echoed softly through the abandoned quarry, and against the gravely, rocky hills in the distance.

When he was finished laughing, he stuck his cigar in the corner of his mouth and patted me on the shoulder.

"And so it begins! The young scholar gets a taste of the real world, gets to wondering if maybe everyone really needs a choice about everything… It's a tale as old as time," he said, placing his hand against my back and leading me along the road. I suppressed a groan.

"Naw, that ain't it. But I'll play ball- how's it end?" Gram shrugged.

"Depends. Some of 'em get insecure, end up going full anarchist- like the Fiends, or the Followers if you want a more positive example. They don't let anyone control them, they keep fighting the system, until eventually they either get worked into it, or they get put down. That's the ending I usually see."

"And the other one?" I asked, fairly certain I knew the answer. Gram straightened his horn-rimmed glasses.

"Well, the rest of 'em grow up. People need a bit of structure in their lives, or they… _collapse._ Maybe they don't need a president, or a bunch of armed thugs watching over their shoulders, but they need _somethin'._ A flag to unite under, a simple set of rules to follow…"

"People are smart enough to figure those things out on their own! I mean, look at Primm- we ain't got a mayor, we've got two police officers who mind their own beeswax, and everything runs fine. People vote on big decisions- or, they don't vote if they don't care either way, and the town works together to fix its own problems. That's all that we need," I said, but I wasn't so sure about that. Before Gram even spoke, I knew what his counter was going to be.

"You say that, until someone who feels differently shows up. And, I hate to spoil your dreams, but since you ain't got more'n a couple of gats and two police officers, they'll win 100% of the time. The organized army will always beat down the plucky militia, if all else is equal." That sounded true. I knew he was going to say that, and yet I had no idea how to argue with it. "That is, unless you call your government for help. A government that you don't want to pay tribute to, don't want to support in _any way,_ until you need their help again. Tell me, do you think that the NCR would be inclined to help out poor little Primm if they didn't get something out of it- say, control of the town and its resources, and some of those sweet tax dollars?"

"If the people up top have any morals at all, then yes. The government exists to serve the people," I said. Gram smirked.

"Does it, Isaac? Does it really?" That smirk was infuriating, but I couldn't argue with it. That was the kind of smirk that _knew_ it was right.

"No. Not this one," I admitted. "Seems like it exists to serve the _taxpayers_ just enough to keep them paying taxes, so that the people up top can keep living like kings."

"Right, that's how every government ends up when enough self-serving bastards like myself get in charge, and once it's like that there's no changing it. But, as I see it, that's okay! Instead of fighting it, you just play with the system to make it serve you too. People did it before the war, they can do it now." I clenched my fists.

"That don't feel right," I replied. Gram shrugged.

"Let it simmer for a while, then. I ain't trying to turn you over to the dark side or nothin'- just trying to help you feel better, and keep you making the _smart_ decisions in the future. For you, and for the rest of us."

He let that sit as we neared the main building again. We stopped in front of the door.

"People are stupid, Isaac. Really _, really_ stupid. Sometimes, they genuinely don't know what's best for em. You ain't a nazi for disagreeing with them about something that _you're_ an expert in, and they _ain't_."

"But I didn't just disagree with Tandi, I forced something on her!" I said. Gram put a hand on my shoulder.

"I'll talk to her about that later. The simple fact remains that you made a hard call, and you saved her life. Your patients won't always be grateful- sometimes, they'll act like you've ruined their life. And you don't have to ignore 'em- I know you ain't a psychologist, but you can still talk with them about their feelings. Understand where they're coming from, if you want, just don't let it get to you." He paused, and looked deep down into my eyes. I still don't know what he saw. But he smiled right then, and it sent shivers down my spine, made my skin crawl. He shook his head.

"You'll help so many more people that way."

I almost responded, but then the front door flew open and Jas burst out, nearly slipping in the puddle of vomit as she ran to meet me. I froze.

"Is something wrong?" I asked. She was severely out of breath, hunched over and pressing her palms against her knees. She nodded, and motioned up at the window with one hand.

"Something's wrong with Tyrone! I think you need to see him," she said, panting between words. My blood ran cold.

"I'll be right there," I muttered, looking at Gram. He nodded, and I sprinted for the door.

_I'm never going to go to sleep, am I?_ I thought as I threw open the door, and picked up my medical bag. I dashed up the stairs, with Jas and Gram in hot pursuit, and walked through the open door.

"What's the problem?" I asked, walking over to Tyrone's bed. He was crying.

"I can't- I can't…" he murmured. Cook had gotten out of her bed to check on the man, and looked up at me accusingly as I came closer.

"He can't feel his legs, Isaac. He's paralyzed," she said. I shook my head.

"No, that can't be- I tested him for sensation before I carried him up. How could he be…" I started to say. Then it clicked.

_Had I immobilized his lower back when I'd carried him up the stairs?_

"Oh," I said. I could feel everyone's eyes drilling into me.

_I'd fucked up._

[+]


	9. The Blooper Reel

(+)9

2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

13242 BYTES FREE

HOLLOWTAPE LOADED: “THE-BLOOPER-REEL”

INITIALISING…

SUCCESS!

**> STATUS**

Battery Level: 9%

Wireless Signal: (?) 

Operating Temperature: 93F

**> HEALTH**

BP: 140/120

SPO2: 100%

Temp: 98.5F

RR: 16

HR: 140

**> TIME**

Day: 26 SEP. 2279

Time: 0:32

**> CLIMATE**

Current Temperature: 73 F

Atmospheric Pressure: 732 mm

Background Radiation: 0.232 RAD

* * *

The spine is a fragile thing- funny, considering how much it's responsible for. Hit it just right, and you can take entire sections of someone’s body out of commission, instantly and permanently. Even with wonder drugs like MED-X, it's incredibly difficult to repair, because of both its complexity and its fragility. Spinal injury can be caused by any sort of blunt-force trauma, and should _always_ be suspected in the case of severe injuries caused by falling, dropped objects, or people getting hit super hard, _even when they don’t got any symptoms._ Minor spinal damage can become serious if not properly managed. 

And that’s why I, the _world class_ physician, decided to drag Tyrone up a set of stairs like I would a giant sack of tatos, grabbing him under the arms and hauling his ass into the hospital with Jas’s help. I was honestly lucky that I hadn’t busted up his entire spine, tugging him up the stairs like that.

How was I going to salvage this? I could try to lie and act like it wasn’t my fault, but my reaction had probably sunk that ship already. And, even if I somehow tricked everyone else, I knew that I couldn’t slip anything past Gram, and that he’d probably pull me aside for some sort of cynical, “I told you so,” lecture, which I really wasn’t in the mood for.

That ruled out lying for me, though I probably wouldn’t have done it anyways. How could I tell the truth and not also destroy everyone’s trust in me? Could I even do that? Come to think of it, maybe I didn’t deserve to be trusted- I had just paralyzed a man by violently dragging him up a set of stairs in a state of paranoid stress, which was pretty bad as far as mistakes went! 

The more I thought about it, the more awful it seemed- I’d let people down before, but I’d never let someone down so bad that they’d _never be able to feel anything below their waist ever again._ The Tandi situation made me reflect, but this was an objective mistake. And, when people make objective mistakes like this, its customary that they _pay._

I guess that was the question now- there would be no salvaging the situation, so how was I going to _pay_ for it? 

“Well… I could try fixing it,” I said, trying to ignore all the eyes on me. I tried to organize my thoughts.

“Isaac, what's happening? Is Tyrone alright? Did you hurt him?” Asked Jas, her cheery Californian voice edging dangerously close to anger as her eyes bored into me. I nodded.

“Yes. I’m sorry,” I said lamely. Jas bunched up her fists, Savanna looked away from me, and Tyrone just kept crying. I tried to collect myself. “I- see, I wasn’t thinking very much when we were taking everyone to the hospital, and he didn’t seem like a serious case, and I just wanted to get him out of there so I could start treating the others. But, I think I might be able to fix him, since I have some MED-X in my bag-” 

Suddenly, Tyrone let out a guttural scream, and tried to roll out of his cot. He couldn’t use his legs, so he just started clawing at the sheets and trying to force himself onto the ground. 

I moved to stop him, but he raked his nails across my face, cutting me and knocking off my glasses. I could feel the stinging welts rising up on my cheek and nose as the little tiny cuts started to bleed. My vision swam as I bent down and tried to find my glasses. The pain wasn’t bad, but when it was mixed with the loud screaming and the blurry vision, it was giving me that scratchy, hot feeling all over my skin, filling my head with static. I covered my ears.

“Stay away from me!” he said, and I pressed on my ears harder. I tried to snatch my glasses up off the floor, but I was shaking too much to hold onto them. I let out a string of obscenities as I fumbled around on the ground, trying to find where I’d dropped the damn things, with Tyrone struggling as hard as he could to make his way to the ground. "You sack of shit- you know what’s gonna happen to me now that I can’t walk? What’s gonna happen to my _family?”_

“Yes, which is why I’m offering to fix you!” I replied, finally managing to get my glasses back on. Tyrone snorted.

“Oh- oh, yeah, lemme just let the guy who broke my back fuck it up even more- yeah, that sounds like a fantastic way to die! _Hell no!_ ” I looked away. If I knocked him out with something, I might be able to operate, and then maybe he’d forgive me, and he’d stop yelling and making my head hurt so much… 

“Oh, but Tyrone, would it hurt to let him _try?_ This is… I can’t imagine letting you live like this!” 

“If you let me try, I promise that I’d be as careful as possible.” Jas gave me an angry look, but I didn’t notice it until it was too late. “If- if I get unsure of something, then I promise that I’ll stop. Not that I’d be unsure, but, I don’t really know the spine very well-”

“For God’s sake, stop talking! You don’t get a say in this!” she shouted, pushing me backwards with her palm. I stumbled back and fell on the ground, jamming my elbow against the floor. I squealed out in pain.

“Are we hurting Isaac?” Asked Tandi, suddenly appearing beside me in full battle garb. I glared at her. Why was she out of bed? _How_ was she out of her bed? Come to think of it, Cook and her fractured rib probably shouldn’t have been up and about either!

“Hell yeah we are! This dumbass broke my spine, and now he wants me to let him operate!” 

I threw my hands up hopelessly. “What do you want? I messed up, now I want to fix it, so if you could stop-” 

“Don’t let ‘im. I had some bruises on my chest, so he ripped me open and cut my heart up,” said Tandi. I started to protest, but when I tried to make words, they just came out as angry noises- the kind a toddler would make. _It was like I was in some kind of nightmare world._

“Y- you know what, I- I…” I started, hauling myself to my feet. I looked around for sympathy, and couldn’t find any. Even Cook, who hadn’t said anything yet, was looking away from me in a way that people sometimes do when they’re embarrassed about me. I grabbed my medical bag from the floor. “You- if you don’t want-” I was stress-talking. My words were still coming out funny. I took a deep breath, tried to relax. “If you don’t want help, fine. I just had that talk with myself, and I ain’t gonna try to force anything on you. I’ll stop on the way back- maybe you’ll’ve changed your mind or whatever.” I turned around to leave. “In the meantime, I think the rest of us can pack up and leave. Clearly, none of you need any more rest, seeing as how you’re both somehow walking around!” It all came out too quickly, I noticed in retrospect, but at least no one was yelling anymore. 

As I stormed out the door, Gram stopped me.

“Why’re ya leaving so early? Aren’t you going to try to help poor Tyrone?” he asked. I shook my head.

“He doesn’t want my help,” I replied. Gram shrugged.

“So what? Give him some morphine, or whatever, then fix him. He’ll be happier in the long run.”

“You know, I just had that very same idea!” I started. Gram raised an eyebrow. “But then, this crazy thing happened, and I remembered that I ain’t a shitty person like you!”

“You’ll be doing the most good overall-”

“Fuck off!” I shouted, pushing him aside. He didn’t fight me.

“Your choice. But, we’re not gonna budge til sunrise. If you leave, you’re leavin’ _alone_.”

I froze where I stood.

_Alone?_ I wasn’t in the listening mood, but that connected immediately. _If I left alone, I’d die._ Mom would probably die too, and the entire point of all of this would be destroyed.

I sighed defeatedly, and walked out the door.

“Where ya going?” Gram asked, his voice steady. I didn’t turn around.

“Sleeping outside. I need a break from people."

Gram didn’t reply to that, thankfully. Now that the anger was fading, I was just left with the crushing reality of what I’d done, and it was making me do the annoying mopey thing where I deliberately secluded myself from anyone who might care about me.

Since I wasn’t in the mood for human companionship, I decided to sleep in the brahmin stables. I had grown attached to Flebe-the-first in the time I’d spent trying to get him fed and watered, and so I didn’t really mind the snoring noises he was making. In fact, it gave me some much needed white noise- the kind that I’d expect from sleeping over at Mr. and Mrs. McBain’s house, for example. Beagle was always a loud snorer.

I checked my pip boy. 1:00 AM. We’d be getting up early. 6:00 AM maybe? 6:10? If I went to sleep right now, that would give me…

Before I could start justifying being up so late by calculating exactly how much sleep I’d get, I passed out in the hay. I might’ve been lying on my face in a Brahmin stable in the middle of Nevada desert, and yet I’d never fallen asleep so quickly. Usually, the world had a way of distracting me- I’d be kept up by the light of my computer, or the distant sound of howling animals, or the unexplainable, anomalous noises that always seemed to come from Black Mountain… 

Not so tonight. As was becoming a theme, I was too tired to think about any of it. Before I could process any of it, the world had disappeared around me.

-break-

I woke up to irritating sound of frying bacon hissing in my ears. I opened my eyes and lifted my head a little bit to try to find the source of the noise, but found myself blinded by the morning sun.

“Ah, Jesus!” I muttered. I stuffed my face back into the hay. A straw of the stuff slipped past my glasses and poked my eyelid, and I struggled with my unresponsive arm to try to brush it away. Apparently I’d slept on the thing, and now it had that weird prickly feeling.

“Good morning, Isaac,” said Cook- no, _Savanna._ I rolled myself over onto my side to look up at her as she walked over to me and knelt down. She was wearing a different dress today, with that lumberjack looking pattern on it. She was also offering me several pieces of bacon on the edge of a machete, I noticed, but I wasn’t in any shape to grab it.

“Put it- put it in this hand,” I grunted, weakly extending my functional left hand- the one with the weird finger arrangement. She obliged, sliding three strips of the delicious, greasy stuff into my hand. It was hot, but I’d always had a good tolerance for that sort of thing.

“Don’t suppose Tyrone’s calmed down any?” I asked, shaking the sleep out of my right arm. Savanna shook her head.

“Dunno- probably not. Everyone but me and Gram are still sleeping,” said Savanna. She offered me a hand, and I took it. By the warm color of the light, I was guessing that it was around seven. Considering how late we’d all been up the previous night, I wasn’t at all surprised that everyone else was sleeping in. In fact, I was a little bit sour that I hadn’t gotten to. As I walked through the frame of the stable, I heard a little beeping noise over by the stove. 

“What was that?” I asked. 

“Not important,” Savanna replied, letting go of my hand as I stumbled out into the sunlight. Even though it was relatively early in the morning, it was already painfully hot outside. It just didn’t mesh with that pretty morning light.

“Why’d you decide to make breakfast out here? You’ve got a perfectly good kitchen inside,” I said. She looked at me funny.

“Well, for one, it doesn’t smell very good in there. All that dried blood was clogging up my sinuses..." I almost replied, but then she started doing the motions that people do when they’re about to start talking, and I stopped in my tracks. “... And, I guess I kind of wanted to see you. I was worried, after all that happened last night.”

“Worried?” I asked. The details of last night were still vivid in my memory, and I definitely couldn’t recall contracting any diseases or ailments that would require constant monitoring of my morning routine. “Worried about what?”

“Well, I dunno. They were being kind of nasty with you last night, and I was worried you might run away or something…”

I looked over by the stove, and noticed a neatly made sleeping bag, with some sort of box next to it. _Had Savanna slept outside?_

“What’s that… box thing? Did I just set that off?” I asked. Savanna nodded sheepishly.

“Its a motion detector,” she admitted. I looked at her incredulously. “What? I keep a few of them around for when we camp in dangerous places. It seemed like a good precaution, given the circumstances!”

“Please don’t yell,” I said, pressing my hands against my temples. Savanna sighed.

“I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have done that. But, you know, I felt kind of bad that I didn’t stick up for you when you…”

“-Broke Tyrone’s spine and then got angry at him for being upset. That was all a series of terrible, permanent mistakes. Carry on.”

Savanna looked irritated, I think. “Yeah. That.” There was an awkward silence. “Well, anyways, I felt like I should have said something. So, when you went outside and started yelling about how you needed time away from people, I felt like it was kind of my fault. And, since I knew you were upset, and upset people do stupid things, I tried to keep you from doing anything stupid.”

I thought about that for a second. Normally, I would have been kind of creeped out by something like that, but something about the way that she explained it made it make sense. 

“Well, alright. I can get behind that,” I said. I stared at the door frame for a second. “How’s the motion sensor work?” 

Savanna’s face lit up. “I’m glad you asked! See those two little blocks that are sitting at opposite ends of the doorframe?” She asked. I nodded. I did, in fact, see two little blocks, each of which sat at one end of the doorway. “Well, one of them is a laser, and one is a receptor. If anything interrupts the laser for more than one fourth of a second, the receptor sends a signal to the thing beside my sleeping bag, and it-” she waved her hand in front of the first box. “Beeps.”

Sure enough, the third box made an angry little beeping sound- sort of like the sound that pre-war cars make when you mess with the lock. Savanna grinned. 

“Huh. How many of those do you have?” I asked. Savanna thought for a second.

“Like, five. I’ve got one receptor that hasn’t got a laser to it, after _this_ asshole decided to chew up the lense,” she said, motioning towards Flebe the second. Flebe the second basked in the insult, chewing some hay with what I could only assume was sass. Savanna made the, ‘ _I’m watching you_ ,’ motion with her fingers, then turned her attention back to the device. “Anyways, that’s one of the ways I keep tabs on stuff. I don’t like people sneaking up on me.” She scooped up the laser, then the receptor, then started yanking at a long black wire, to reel in the beeping speaker-device. As the device came within her reach, she flicked a little switch on the side, and the beeping stopped.

“Thank you,” I said. Savanna gave me a nod of acknowledgement, and started walking over towards her sleeping bag. “Any idea when we’re leaving?”

She nodded. “Gram said we’ll leave around noon. He wanted to leave earlier, but I convinced him that we needed time to recover.” She looked over her shoulder, and gave me a sorry-looking glance. “Are you going to be ready to leave today?”

“Yeah, of course,” I said. I lifted up my shirt a bit, and inspected the place where a shard of Deathclaw bone had stuck into my chest. Neatly bandaged, and it wasn’t itching or hurting unless I touched it. I had a little cut on my nose, too, but that wasn’t of any concern. “I don’t even have any wounds that would’ve needed a Stimpack.” 

Savanna made a face that I didn’t understand. “That’s not what I…” she started saying, then stopped mid-sentence and looked away. “Never-mind. Eat your bacon or something. Do you need anything to drink?” 

“Don’t suppose you have the stuff to make agave juice?” I asked. Savanna nodded.

“I do, actually. We used to make it a lot, in my first tribe. How thirsty are you?"

"Um-” I pushed my tongue against the roof of my mouth, and almost gagged- my mouth was _dry._

_“Very?”_ I ventured. Wordlessly, Savanna walked around the corner, and got to work. I could hear the back doors of the caravan opening up, and then the clinking of glass implements, and then the familiar noise of liquid running from a tap, and a spoon clinking against the side of a cup.

For the first time that morning, I smiled, as Savanna came back around the corner, holding two cups of gold-tinted water, each with a sterling silver spoon hanging in the golden liquid… 

“Holy cow, I haven’t had any of this stuff since I was ten years old,” I said, graciously accepting the sugary beverage with both of my hands. I sipped some of it, and my soul warmed up a little bit as the sweet ambrosia ran between my lips.

“I usually put whisky in it, but seeing as how it isn’t even noon, I decided that I probably shouldn’t,” said Savanna, stirring her drink absently. I made a sound to let her know that I thought her joke was funny and kept sipping the desert ichor. She’d mixed it just right- she hadn’t put in so little that the taste was weak, but she hadn’t put in so much that it was insoluble in the cool water. 

I liked Savanna, I decided.

“Well, I’m going to start making breakfast for the others. You can go back to sleep, if you want. We won’t be leaving for a few hours.

I checked my pip-boy. 7:23 AM. _Yeah, I got time._

“When do you think I should start packing?” I asked, picking some of the dried blood off of my shirt. 

“I already packed everyone’s stuff last night. Your coat and bag and helmet and stuff are in the wagon,” said Savanna, seemingly deep in thought. I was about to take another sip of the Agave Juice, but I stopped at that. “I also packed up all the hospital stuff. I hope you didn’t have an organizational system, because I totally overhauled it when I packed up.”

That about _did it_ for me. I mean, it’s not like I had a system, but at least I knew where stuff was!

“Why did you do all of that? And, more importantly, how? Just how late were you up last night?” I asked. 

Savanna snapped her fingers a few times, then said, “Two-thirty.” 

To be honest, I wasn’t even surprised. I took another sip of the agave juice, wishing that she’d put whisky in it. 

“As for why… I mean, why does anyone? I have trouble going to sleep sometimes. I sleep easier when I know I’m prepared for the morning.” 

Couldn’t argue with that. Well, I could, but I didn’t really want to, because that would mean that I had to remove the edge of my cup from my mouth, and I was in the process of savoring some of the syrupy agave-nectar that hadn’t yet dissolved. That had been one of my few pleasures in life back in the bad-old-days, and I still found myself enjoying it all these years later. That and Ramen noodles were two things that I suspected I’d never grow tired of.

“Well, anyways, do whatever you want. If you want to come and have breakfast with us, go for it,” said Savanna, walking towards the back door. She opened it up. “If not, then get some rest. If my hunch about where we’re going today is right, we’ve got a lot of walking to do.” She seemed like she was about to close the door, but then she stopped, and looked right at me. It was uncomfortable 

“And, um, Isaac-” she started. I cocked my head. “Thanks for helping me with the Deathclaw thing. I know that no one else seems to care that you saved their lives, but I do. So… Thanks again, I guess.”

I wanted to tell her that I hadn’t really saved her life, and that I’d actually just made her broken rib heal faster. But, before I could get anything out, she closed the door behind her.

Was that what had brought this on? It’s not as though she hadn’t been friendly before, but she’d seemed kind of distant. She was usually friendly with me the same way that she was friendly with Tandi- the fake, polite, way with occasional flashes of genuine interest. The night before though, she’d gone _far_ out of her way to keep me safe, and she’d seemed oddly honest and open this morning. 

Well, whatever it was, I almost hoped it stayed that way- It was nice to have at least one real friend.

I started to walk back towards the stables to go back to sleep, then realized that Savanna had made the sleeping roll and left it out for me. I silently thanked her, and moved the fluffy blue roll into the shade of the main building. I removed my glasses.

Was I still stressed and angry at myself? Hell yes I was! The night’s rest hadn’t taken away the guilt of my mistakes. But, somehow, Savanna had made me feel better about it all. As I tucked myself in and pressed the side of my head into the soft, cool pillow, I decided that I’d have to thank her somehow. Not that I’d know how- I wasn’t really used to having friends. 

This could be good, I decided. I’d only ever thought about friendship in the abstract, yet it didn't feel particularly alien, even now that it was happening up close. A little too close, right now, but maybe I could get used to this!

-break-

The hot, sandy wind whipped at my grimy white coat and grated against my skin, as the old mining town of Sloan slowly disappeared behind us. 

_Can’t say I’ll miss it,_ I thought as we went around the bend of the highway, and into the valley pass. With any luck, I’d be able to stop by and try to fix the mistakes I’d made there on the way back. But, if that proved to be impossible, I had absolutely no problem with never going back. 

“So, where exactly are we going?” Asked Savanna, looking over the map on my Pip-Boy. She scrolled one of the wheels a bit. “Assuming that this little blip is Sloan-“

“It is,” I interjected. She nodded.

“Yeah. Well, since that’s the place we just left, then we can either go the Nipton route, or we can go back to the fork and take the other way…”

“I’m planning on the latter,” replied Gram, shielding his eyes from the 1-o-clock sunlight. He sighed and made a face as he stared down the highway. 

“And that means we’re going to Goodsprings.” 

**  
****[+] END OF ARC 1**


	10. The Calm Before

_“A doctor’s most powerful tool is a Retrospect-oscope.”_

_-An old adage_

(+)10

2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

14302 BYTES FREE

HOLLOWTAPE LOADED: “THE-CALM-BEFORE...”

INITIALISING…

SUCCESS!

**> STATUS**

Battery Level: 3% (CHARGING)

Wireless Signal: (?) 

Operating Temperature: 93F

**> HEALTH**

BP: 120/90

SPO2: 100%

Temp: 98.5F

RR: 12

HR: 70

**> TIME**

Day: 27 SEP. 2279

Time: 20:42

**> CLIMATE**

Current Temperature: 82 F

Atmospheric Pressure: 732 mmHG - 731 mmHG - 730 mmHG...

Background Radiation: 0.232 RAD

* * *

“... Barometer is reading lower than normal, and it's dropping fast. We’re definitely getting a storm.” Savanna’s face glowed green beneath the sunset as she deciphered the words and numbers from the pip-boy. _My_ pip-boy, technically, plugged into my backup battery cell, but I was more than happy to let her fiddle with it, considering how I didn’t even know how to read anything outside of the HEALTH or STATUS tab. She stared at it for a while longer.

“Is it gonna be tonight?” Asked Gram, peering over Savanna’s shoulder to look at the pip-boy. She shrugged.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think it's imminent, if that’s what you’re asking. But, all I have is a barometer. Which is cool, but without something to measure wind speeds, I can’t really get any super precise information like that.” She scrolled one of the wheels on the frame, and some incomprehensible stuff flashed across the screen, the little green characters reflecting in her eyes. She made a disappointed, ‘humph,’ and clicked back to the STATUS page.

“Well, I don’t wanna get rained on- bad for my skin, and all. We’ll camp out by the crashed plane at Jean Sky Diving up ahead. Place is usually pretty safe, since it’s already been looted ten times over,” said Gram, walking up in front of us and to the Brahmin, who were getting a little bit off the path. He gently guided them back, tugging at the leather reigns and prodding each of them in the necks. Gradually, Hebe and Flebe found their way back onto the asphalt, where their footsteps sounded like the, “clip-clop!” of horses in wild-western movies. 

“Would you nerds shut the hell up down there? I’m trying to sleep off all the shit that Sawbones here did to me last night!” shouted Tandi, from on top of the cart. Her and Savanna had temporarily switched places because of Tandi’s wounds, which had been kind of nice because it let Savanna and I chat. Of course, it was a double-edged-sword- as it turned out, Tandi wasn’t big on sitting in one place, and she took it out on us. She was complaining pretty much constantly about how we were too loud, or too boring, or too weak because we wanted a drink of water or a short rest. She was the only member of the party who hadn’t asked me to help pop some blisters yet, because she was still too stubborn to accept help from me. Since the incident, she’d been especially biting towards me- everything I did that wasn’t walking silently, Tandi bit my head off about it. 

Then again, after what I’d done to her, I couldn’t help but feel like I kind of deserved it. I could probably count myself lucky that she didn’t straight-up shank me. 

“Don’t get too comfy up there, Tandi. I’m gonna need your help clearing out the site tonight. Might need your help with the little shed too,” said Gram, pointing towards the big crater in the distance, where the small passenger jet had crashed all those years back. Tandi groaned through her helmet.

“Can’t I just toss some grenades in there? I want to do _teamwork_ ,” she said, dangling her upper body over the edge like a sullen toddler. Gram shook his head.

“No- no, absolutely no grenades! That kind of noise attracts dangerous people. And, if it’s all the same, I wanna have a place to sleep afterwards.”

“Fine. You’re clearing the plane though- I ain’t getting the machine gun out of the trunk. Got enough bruises as is.”

“Fair point. You’ll do overwatch, then, and I’ll clear with the double-barrel. Sound good?” asked Gram. Tandi gave Gram a salute, and pulled herself back atop the cart. 

“ _Da_.” 

Some more time passed; the sun continued to set. By the time that the sun had disappeared behind the mountains, and the sky had grown dark and starry, we finally got to the end of the railroad tracks that we’d walked over to get to sloan. To the left were some boulders and hills that belied our new path, to Goodsprings. We were close enough now that I could make out the details of the skydiving supply-shack that sat on the side of the Goodsprings path, and see just over the edge of the crater where the crashed plane lay. 

Straight ahead now, was _home._

I hadn’t even been gone that long- just over three days, now. And yet, I could already feel my eyes stinging as the tears started to well up behind my glasses. It wasn’t far away- if I ran really fast, I could get there in a couple hours. Then, I would throw open my door, and I’d tell my mom sorry for leaving, and then- and then…

...Well, then I’d feel too guilty to leave again, and mom would die of cancer. It was the same reason I’d left so abruptly- any contact with mom might change my mind. Logically, I knew that I couldn’t return, not without giving up. But, deep down, I still wanted to, and I couldn’t make that go away. As much as I liked to pretend that I didn’t feel illogical feelings, I knew as well as anybody else that that wasn’t true. Whatever was wrong with me, it didn’t make me a robot. As evidenced, of course, by the embarrassing amount of fluids now pouring out of my face.

“You alright, Isaac?” asked Savanna, quietly enough that I don’t think the others heard. I nodded and tried to smile. I don’t think it helped anything.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little bit homesick,” I replied, removing my glasses and wiping away the tears. I cleared my throat like I was done crying, but I could tell that I wasn’t. I’d turned the other way as soon as I started getting the chest-ache that accompanies that kind of sadness, but the image had already burned itself right into my brain. The sight of home- so close, and so far- had hit me like a sack of bricks.

“Let’s just keep going. I wanna have time to sleep tonight.”

-break-

“Plane is empty!” Shouted Gram, from across the way. We shared a collective sigh of relief. Tandi lowered her green-stocked rifle with the funky scope, and looked at Savanna.

“Disengaging. Keep spotting for Gram, alright? He can’t see shit in the dark.” Savanna made a little, “Mhm,” sound, and kept her binoculars steady. Tandi patted her on the head and strolled up to the door of the shed, where she holstered her rifle and folded in in the little legs. After fiddling about with the straps for a few seconds, she drew her massive, six-cylinder revolver.

Immediately, I tensed up. Gram had mentioned that I might watch people die, but I wasn’t expecting to do it this close. What if there was someone in there? Would Tandi shoot to kill- and, if she didn’t kill the poor bastard, would her and Gram let me fix him? My blood ran cold, and my mind raced with gruesome possibilities as Tandi poised herself outside the rusted metal door.

“I know there’s no one in there, but-” I started.

“CLEARIN’ THE SHED,” shouted Tandi. Immediately, I covered my ears and braced myself for her to kick open the door and start shooting, but she didn’t; she just sat there, helmet pressed against the wall, revolver pointed against the door at an angle. After a few tense seconds, she quietly opened the door and waited for a response. I craned my neck and rolled over a bit to try to get a view inside the shed, but I knew it was futile- the door was at a bad angle. All I saw was a bunch of dust blowing out of the doorway as the age-old room was opened. Tandi stepped around the other side of the doorway.

“Oh- ENEMY SPOTTED! ENEMY SPOTTED!” She barked. Again, I covered my ears and threw myself against the ground, waiting for the muzzles to explode and the bullets to go flying. Savanna didn’t budge- she just looked mildly amused, which confused me until I realized that no one was actually being shot, and that Tandi was just trying to psyche out potential enemies. I sighed, and dusted the sand and gravel off of my coat. I was starting to get a little bit embarrassed with myself at this point.

“You’ll get used to it,” said Savanna, scrolling the variable-zoom on her binoculars until she found a setting that was apparently more satisfactory. I nodded absently. “Of course, we’ve got codewords for _actual_ danger. If she spots an actual enemy, for example, she’d say-” 

“POLARIS!” Screamed Tandi. I started to smile, until suddenly the gunshots started going off, and the whole shed lit up with orange flashes and blasts of debri. Three vaguely humanoid figures came rushing out the front door, tails flicking behind them as the .45-70 rounds licked at their heels, flinging up dust and sand and little flecks of blood and bone into the night.

It wasn’t until the fifth gunshot or so that I realized that the gunshots weren’t nearly as loud as they should have been at this range. That reminded me that I should be covering my ears, and I started to do that, then realized that Savanna had already covered them for me. 

“Huh,” I said, staring out at the little massacre taking place before me. The dust was settling now, and Tandi was limping out of the shack, holding a big scary knife in one hand and an empty revolver in the other. One of the downed Geckos was rapidly crawling away on three limbs, so Tandi threw the knife directly into its spine. It convulsed on the ground until Tandi put its skull in with her boot. The overwhelming, nail-polish-remover scent of the vintage cordite propellant from Tandi’s revolver began to drift my way. 

“Are you okay?” Asked Savanna, lifting her hands off the sides of my head. I tried to nod, but found my muscles to be unresponsive.

“Yes!” I managed to say, eventually. I was shaking badly, but besides that I really _was_ okay. Savanna had done a good job muffling the gunshots.

“Are _you_ okay?” I asked, suddenly realizing that Savanna wouldn’t have been able to cover her own ears. She tapped the side of her head.

“Yeah, I’ve got earplugs in.”

“Ah.”

We were both silent for a second, observing the carnage. Three dead geckos in sight, and who-knows-how-many in the shed. Tandi tore off her helmet.

“You gonna help me or not!?” She shouted, gesturing toward her leg with her revolver. I squinted through my glasses, and realized that she was bleeding through her jeans- dark, venous blood.

“Oh- Oh, ‘course! Sorry, I didn’t see it in the dark…” I started, trailing off as Tandi came closer. Normally, I wasn’t great at reading expressions, but the one that Tandi was giving me couldn’t really be misinterpreted. She was doing the angry-squint at me with her good eye, _and_ the lidless, empty socket on the other side. I reached into my medical case, and grabbed my sterile gloves- Or, a catheter tube that I’d forgotten that I had. How had that gotten in the glove spot?

Oh, right- Savanna. I grumbled something about organized chaos and rearranging my things as I peered into the bag, searching for the spot where Savanna had placed my gloves. Once I finally found them, Tandi had already sat down and elevated her injured leg using a little rock.

“Mind if I cut through the jeans?” I asked. Tandi shrugged.  
  


“Just don’t cut into my ribcage.” I winced at that, which almost made me drop the folded utility knife that I’d been in the process of retrieving from my coat. Blocking out the part of my mind that wanted to let the remark get to me, I flashed her an exaggerated smile, and pried open the knife. 

  
“I’ll try my best.”

I started to saw through the tough denim jeans, but then was moving her leg and pulling back whenever my knife got too close to her skin, which threw me off. Eventually I opted to just cut two vertical lines and then roll the flap up to reveal the wound- a deep, two-toothed bite mark, right between the tibia and fibula. It wasn’t even that nasty, but something about the unfortunate placement of the wound- _right through the anterior tibial vein-_ made me feel it in my own leg. I shivered.

“Normally, I start with direct pressure and go from there. But, I’m pretty sure that won’t work here, so I’m just gonna go straight for the pressure dressings,” I said. I put away my knife and reached into my medical bag.

  
“Hold up- what’s a pressure dressing? Is it some freaky surgical shit? Is it gonna make my leg fall off?” I shook my head.

“No, that’s a tourniquet, and those don’t actually make your leg fall off. But that’s beside the point. This is just a real tight bandage,” I said, drawing my flask of rubbing alcohol and pouring it over a strip of gauze. She smirked at me.

“I’m joking, hack-job. I was a soldier once.” I wanted to defend myself, but as I’d realized with her, fighting just caused escalation, and I really didn’t want to push it past mean-spirited taunting while I was operating. So, I just gave her another, “winning,” smile, and got to cleaning and dressing her wound. 

“And stop doing that face. It’s fuckin creepy- Makes me think you’re about to go all doctor-frankenstein on me, start sewing on Gecko skin or some shit.”

Immediately, I stopped smiling, and my skin turned beet red. I was awfully defensive about that smile- I brushed my teeth often, but everyone still told me that it was creepy! It was what you might call _disheartening._

“Hey, it’s not- I mean, It’s not _that_ creepy,” Said Savanna, smiling a _nice_ smile that people like her could do without trying. I gave her the most exaggerated smile I could muster, started reaching for my knife...

“See, now _that’s_ a scary grin! It’s like, the mouth of Sauron if he were a geek!” I wasn’t sure who the mouth of Sauron was, but I decided to be proud of the remark.

“Less talk, more fix!” Shouted Tandi, whacking me in the side with her good leg. I laughed and shouted something obscene as I arched my spine, playing it up like I’d just gotten shanked.

“Ah, sweet fuck, she got my spleen! I’m done, y’all, I’m not gonna make it!” I tumbled onto my side and raised one hand dramatically to the sky. Tandi poised her leg to kick again. “The lights- oh my god, I see a light…”

“Bitch, do you want your intestines kicked out through your nose? Fix my leg!” 

I quickly pulled myself back up, on the off chance that Tandi might actually do that to me.

“Hey, I was gettin’ there! It’s not like you’re gonna die or nothin.” I chewed on my lip a little. “And, just, just outta _curiosity,_ have you ever _actually-”_

“She has,” Savanna said darkly. When I apparently didn’t look convinced, she clutched at her stomach and made a dramatic squirting motion just under her nose using her free fingers.

“Just like that!” said Tandi, grinning with the good side of her face.

I apparently continued to look skeptical as I wound the alcohol-treated bandage around Tandi’s injured leg, because both of them kept making silent, cryptic references to the gory act throughout the procedure. 

“Alllllrighty, that should do it. Geckos ain’t poisonous, right?” I asked, tieing off the gauze bandage. Savanna looked mystified.

“Did you… Did you just say, ‘ _ain’t_ ’?” I did an uncomfortable laugh. _Had I?_

"Prolly? Why would that matter?”

“Well, it doesn’t. It’s just… you have the cowboy-voice thing going on, but you don’t usually speak in the vernacular. Is it like, a stress thing? Or do you just do it sometimes?” I thought about that for a second. That was a _good_ question!

“I’m actually not sure! I never even noticed myself doing it until this moment. Have you heard me do it with other words?” I asked. Savanna stared at the ground for a few seconds, presumably scouring her memory, then nodded.

“Well, yeah, but everyone uses those ones. Only cowboys and mobsters say, ‘ain’t.’” We were all silent for a few seconds. “Oh, and to answer your question about poison- no. Venom, on the other hand: yes, actually!” 

My heart sank. “What?” I asked, in a monotone. Tandi raised an eyebrow. 

“Do you need to cut off my leg? I’ve always wanted a robot-leg,” said Tandi. I glared at her.

“Tandi, you can’t- that ain’t- What!?” I pressed my hands against my temples. _How’d father told me to deal with venom? Was it- was it the same for all of them? Was the antivenom in my medical case universal? How did I apply it? Was it intravenous, intramuscular, or would she have to swallow it? And, what if the venom attacked the airway, and she couldn’t swallow it, and I had to-_

“...Of course, their venom is meant for subduing small prey, and one bite won’t do anything except for maybe making you feel sort of drowsy,” said Savanna, placing a hand on my shoulder. I sat with my mouth open. Despite her reassurance, I was still sort of tense, which I guess she noticed. “Trust me- I’ve had a few bites before, and I’m still alive.” I bobbed my head up and down.

“Uh-huh,” I said, turning away and staring out at the old, crashed plane. I saw the familiar red beam of Gram’s flashlight darting across the hillside as he jogged towards us. 

“The hell happened up here?” Gram asked, stepping up over the hilltop and scanning the scene with his tracking-flashlight. The blood and scales glimmered in the crimson light.

“Geckos tried to fuck with me, I shot em dead,” said Tandi. She motioned towards the pile of corpses behind us. The smell of cordite and blood still hung in the windless air, and some flies were already starting to buzz around the corpses.

“That’s what I was thinkin’, but you can never be too sure. Tandi didn’t get bitten too much, right Isaac?” asked Gram. I shook my head and started to explain-

“They only got me once! That’s the first time one of them’s ever gotten me,” interrupted Tandi, picking up her knife and tapping it against the wound. Gram sighed.

“I’m very proud of you, Tandi. You want a band-aid and some Sugar-Bombs?” Savanna brightened up.

“Ooh, My dad used to prescribe Sugar-Bombs and brahmin milk for Gecko bites! Well, that, and the flesh of the Gecko that bit me,” she recounted. She looked over at one of the fallen Geckos. Tandi tossed her knife in the air and caught it by the blade. She was also eyeing the Geckos now. 

“I could eat a couple of those scaly fucks. You’d have to cook ‘em, but…”

“I gotcha! Do you want them filleted, or are we thinking more along the line of kebabs?” asked Savanna, standing up and straightening the ruffled edges of her sundress. Tandi shrugged.

"What’s quicker?” 

“Kebabs, in terms of the actual cooking, but I’d have to prepare the vegetables first. Isaac, do you wanna help me with that?”

I nodded. I had no idea how to prepare any sort of vegetables, unless you meant brain-dead patients, but I liked being helpful, and I suspected that it wouldn’t be very hard to learn. Savanna seemed like a capable teacher, after all.

“Good. I’ll get to butchering the geckos- the vegetables are in a little basket hanging off the side of the cart. Go grab those, and we can get to work,” said Savanna, pointing to where we’d hid the cart. I gave her a thumbs up, and set out through the darkness on my newfound quest.

Though I was not looking forward to trudging through the perilous darkness for twenty minutes, (and probably falling over at least a few times,) I found myself looking past that and thinking about spending more time with Savanna, which sounded nice. Admittedly, we’d already spent plenty of time together throughout the day, but I appreciated her company. Underneath the oddly narrow role of, “Cook,” she was clearly well educated. Probably a good deal smarter than me, which was a low bar but still. Plus, she smelled like she actually bathed regularly, which I can’t say for most of the folks I’ve met in the wasteland. 

All in all, she was the only member of the caravan who I _didn’t_ despise at least a little bit. 

-break-

“Cocka-doodle-doo, cocksuckers! Let’s get going!”

_Why did I always have to wake up to something loud and annoying?_ Before I was even done processing that I was awake, I was pressing my palm and fingers into my eyes to avoid having to look outside. The sun was on the other side of the shed, but it was still way too bright for my poor little eyes to process. I heard Savanna mumble something which, while I couldn’t understand exactly, I was inclined to agree with on the basis of it sounding _angry._ Mornings are the worst.

“What time is it?” I asked, sitting up and squinting at Tandi through the space between my thumb and pointer finger. She shrugged.

“Don’t know, don’t care. Hoplite says we gotta get going early to make up for all the lost time. Said something about a storm, too- If we wanna avoid it, we gotta be at Goodsprings before three.” 

“That’s… manageable, I think. Mind if I borrow your pip-boy?” Asked Savanna, sitting up in her sleeping bag. Squinting to try to see without my glasses, I fumbled around on the little patch of floor next to me until I found my pip-boy, and clumsily passed it off to her. Immediately, she switched to the map tab, and placed two fingers on the screen, presumably on the distance-indicator. I wasn’t sure how she could see anything, with how messy her short, spiky hair was in the morning. It practically covered her face.

“Well… we have to travel at the same speed as the brahmin, which is usually about 5.5 kilometers per-hour- plus breaks, don’t want to forget those! So, if we leave in, say, half an hour, we should get there around two-thirty or three….” Savanna looked like she was about to start talking again, but Tandi stuck out her palm and turned her head away, which I recognised as a way of telling Savanna to be quiet because it's the same thing that father used to do to me.

"Save it for Hoplite- I ain’t a witch. I ain’t about to melt.” She opened the door back up, and leaned on the doorframe. “We’re leaving in twenty minutes. I’ll see you at the cart.” 

And then she left, slamming the door behind her and leaving Savanna and I alone and bewildered in the old supply-shack. The remnants of last night’s dinner still lay strewn about the room- pots and pans, vegetable scraps, dirty knives, a pilot-light grill… we’d thankfully had the good sense to toss out the unused gecko meat before we went to sleep, but I was pretty sure I could still smell it rotting outside. Might’ve just been my imagination.

“I’m going to go get dressed. Do you want to help me pack up all the cooking stuff?” Asked Savanna, picking up her camping-bag and slinging it over her shoulder. I shrugged.

“I mean, I gotta get dressed too.” Savanna rolled her eyes at me.

“Well, yeah, but getting into a dress takes a lot longer than putting on pants and a jacket.”

“Wait, really? How long does it take?”

“Well, it depends on the dress. Some of them have a zipper or a seam that needs to be done and undone, and I usually wear a halter, which takes time to adjust. Plus, most of the dresses that I can wear have to be baggy to fit me, so I take time to pin and adjust stuff on that end whenever I have time…”

“So why do you even wear dresses, then? I’d get sick of having to do all that stuff every morning.” Savanna didn’t immediately respond to that, so I wondered if I might have hit a nerve. I looked away from her, and tried to fill the awkward void by putting my aforementioned pants on. Then, just as I finished tightening the belt, Savanna spoke:

“I’m practicing.”

And she left it that. Before I could ask any further, she walked out the door in her nightgown, carrying her bag of clothes and supplies with her. Probably for the best, I realized in retrospect- I might’ve said some very tasteless things, given a few more minutes. But, one question remained in my head: 

_Practicing?_

I’d ask about it later. In the meantime, I used my solitude as a chance to finish getting dressed. Before I had gone to bed, I’d taken off my glasses, pants, shoes, helmet, and jacket, and I’d also unbuttoned my shirt. Since I’d left all of it in a heap by my sleeping bag, it didn’t take long to get it all back on, though I always had some trouble with shirt buttons. My jacket had the nice, big-buttons that were easy to slot in, but my undershirt had these annoyingly small ones that I couldn’t ever seem to get right.

Once I was finished with that agonizing process, I checked my pip-boy and found that I still had about 13 minutes until our departure. I spent the remaining time packing up the cooking supplies, and cleaning out the ones that still had stuff in them. Since I didn’t have anything to put them in, I just stacked them by the door, and waited for Savanna. 

A few minutes before we had to leave, The heavy metal door opened and Savanna came walking back in, wearing the same high-cut sundress that she’d worn on the first day. She had fixed her hair, too, which reminded me how messed up mine would be after all this time. Back home, I’d put gel in it and model it after the way that famous actors wore it before the war, with two sections and the little swoosh in the front, and all of it combed to stay out of my forehead-eye region.

“You ready?” I asked. Savanna nodded.

“Yeah, I think. Thanks for getting the cooking stuff together,” she replied, stooping over and scooping the stacks of kitchen-applications into her camping bag. I bobbed my head.

“Mhm.”

I opened the door for her because I wasn’t carrying anything, and then we walked out to the cart. After last night’s dinner, Gram and Tandi had taken some time to hide it in the crater, just beside the crashed jet. Hebe and Flebe had slept where we left them, standing up and tethered to the cart.

Of course, when we looked over the edge, there was nothing. No cart, no Brahmin- the motion sensors that Savanna had placed down were gone too.

“What-” I started, my stress levels reaching an all time high. Had someone actually made off with the cart, or had-

“ _Debil_! Over here!”

I sighed. _Of course, that was it_. Gram and Tandi were sitting up beside a massive boulder that sat against the hillside behind me, eating dried Brahmin jerky and watching us blunder around. I could see the cart poking out from behind the boulder. 

“Come on, we’re trying to beat the storm! Pick up the pace!” shouted Gram, doing a “come hither” thing with his hand. Suddenly, the sun felt really hot against the back of my neck, and I really, really wished that I was one of those people who just _knew_ these things. Proper protagonists, like Sherlock Holmes, or Grognak the Barbarian. I hated being a Rincewind.

“Coming,” I said, driving my gaze into the cracked pavement below my feet as I walked towards the cart. Savanna followed.

“Yeah. Isaac and I thought that we’d get one last look at the cool pre-war plane. Right, Isaac?” Savanna gave me a friendly punch in the shoulder, which scared me at first because getting punched in the shoulder doesn’t really feel friendly until you remember that it's supposed to be. I nodded earnestly.

“Definitely. I’m a real big fan. Um, superior engineering, that thing.” I blanched at the words that came out of my mouth. I genuinely did think that pre-war planes and cars were kind of cool- _when I was like, ten._ It had been one of my shortest lived, and yet most passionate obsessions, right next to clouds. After that had been pre-war books and stories, then the stars, and then pre-war Hollywood, and then human anatomy. Obviously, I still appreciated that last one, though I wasn’t quite as fixated anymore. I was just grateful that I could still retain all the facts from when I was. 

“Well, if you’re done ogling that _superior_ piece of junk, let’s go. I kinda like my skin- hate to lose it to some Nevada dew.”

And so we set off down the road, towards Goodsprings. Up above, the dark grey Cumulonimbus clouds gathered ominously. A bit of thunder crackled in the distance; A bad omen, according to some dumbass boat-people from before the war. Of course, we’d developed our _own_ bad omens by now, but the hairs on my neck still stood up a little at the sound. Maybe it was because, deep down, I was a little bit superstitious. Or maybe I got a glimpse into the future right then, and it had nothing to do with the thunder.

Or, I was being a pussy. Probably the last one. I did my best to ignore the sinking feeling in my gut as we came closer to Goodsprings, the friendliest little town in the Mojave.

[+]


	11. The Storm

(+)11

2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

12102 BYTES FREE

HOLLOWTAPE LOADED: "THE-STORM."

INITIALISING…

SUCCESS!

**STATUS  
**

Battery Level: 9%

Wireless Signal: (?)

Operating Temperature: 93F

**HEALTH  
**

BP: 120/90

SPO2: 100%

Temp: 98.5F

RR: 15

HR: 70

**TIME  
**

Day: 28 SEP. 2279

Time: 16:11

**CLIMATE  
**

Current Temperature: 64F

Atmospheric Pressure: 512 mm ( **WARNING! SEVERE WEATHER ALERT!** )

Background Radiation: 0.151 RAD

* * *

" **Gram Hoplite**! You've got a lot of nerve, showing yourself here."

_Oh, great,_ I thought. _Of course Gram did something horrible here. The friendliest place I'd ever been, and he'd been a dick._

"Wouldn't have stopped here if I could avoid it. But, the Long 15 is closed, and I ain't about to go the Novac way," replied Gram, crossing his arms. For her part, Trudy crossed hers right back at him.

"I don't wanna hear it. Your ungodly tab here has cost Goodsprings more than anything else in twenty years," said Trudy, motioning towards the faded red saloon with the light-up neon sign. Gram took off his hat, and did his best to look hurt. I wasn't sure if he was acting or not, but if I didn't know any better, I'd be totally convinced.

"Listen, Trudy, we've been through a lotta shit in the last couple of days- half of us are only still alive because of the new guy here. If you let us wait out the storm, I won't buy a thing and we'll leave as soon as we can," he said, bowing his head solemnly. Trudy looked around at all of us with a really scary look, then stopped and looked back at Gram. She did an angry sigh.

"Fine. But, for the record, I'm only doing this because your friends here have never done anything wrong in this town. They don't deserve to get caught in a storm like that because you can't pay for your whiskey."

"Thanks, madame. You're too kind." Gram and Savanna exchanged some sort of look that might have been gratitude. "Anyways, if it's all the same, I'll just go-"

"Oh, no you don't! At the very least, you owe me a story or two- it's been years since I've heard anything from you! Come on, _let's go down to the bar_ ," said Trudy, effectively grabbing onto and restraining Gram in every way _except_ for physically. He made a little gesture that suggested that he wanted to tie a rope around his neck until he suffocated, and then reluctantly followed Trudy back to the bar. That left Tandi, Savanna and I alone with the shorter, younger woman who'd been standing behind Trudy, holding an old varmint-rifle. She looked vaguely familiar.

"Well, I guess that means that you guys can come in, long as you don't cause any trouble- not that I'd expect you to…" she said, gesturing towards the cute little town with her rifle. Tandi laughed underneath her helmet.

"Not on your life, Sunny. What've you been up to?"

"Not a lot, Goodsprings has been a pretty quiet place since the Khans left us alone. How about you?"

"Well, I fought some deathclaws back at Sloan. Oh, and I got my first Gecko bite- you were right, those things hurt like hell!"

"I told you! Deathclaws and mutants are scary, but there's something about Gecko bites…" Said Sunny, trailing off as she looked at me. I would have looked away, but I was fixated too much on her face, trying to match it with the name. _Sunny?_ Wasn't what the one brother in The Godfather was called? I couldn't associate that name with anyone else.

"Huh- I was about to ask you your name, but you look kinda familiar. Have we met?" asked 'Sunny.' I shrugged.

"My name is Isaac- Isaac Saller. I visited here once as a kid." After a few seconds of silence, I noticed that I was clutching my hands together nervously. That visit had been during a… _troubling_ time in my youth. I wanted to be understood, but I couldn't speak with words yet, so I was usually just a little ball of anger and frustration. The trip to Goodsprings had been no exception.

"Wait- hold on- yeah, I do remember you! Your Lucas's son, right?"

_Oh, not this shit again!_ Grimacing on the inside, I nodded stiffly and tried to smile. If Sunny noticed my pain, she didn't show it. "You know, as soon as I saw your face, I thought, "I know those freckles from somewhere!" Guess I was right, huh?"

I nodded again. _Katherine-_ that's what she'd called herself when I met her. Of course, she'd only been about eleven years old at the time, so I was kind of surprised that she remembered me. Most people aren't blessed with that kind of memory.

"Man, your dad is an awesome guy. I don't know if you were here when he came by to help us recover from our big run-in with the Great-Khans-"

"I was."

"Yeah- well, anyways, he and his friends worked day and night to make sure that _every single person_ who was wounded would survive, both Great Khans and our guys. Releasing the wounded Khans back to their tribe ended up keeping the peace between us until… well, until now, I guess, because we haven't had a real fight since then."

I remembered this. Father had made me watch while he put in the jugular IVs, in case I ever needed to do one of those. He also tried to get me to watch a tracheotomy, but I'd screamed and hadn't been able to sleep for three days after that. As it turns out, I wasn't born immune to nausea.

"Yeah, my father was… pretty great. Never hurt anyone outside of a medical context," I said, kicking at some little red-and-white pebbles by my feet. _Of course, if he hadn't been so anti-violent, he might not have died. God, what I wouldn't give to see that drunk courier lying against a wall with his head shot off..._

But, that was the kind of thought that I liked to avoid- and besides, that was no way to speak to someone like Sunny! I distinctly remembered that she'd been really nice to me, even when I couldn't talk. So, I left it at that- on a positive note, but in the past tense, because he was dead. A couple of years ago and I probably would have gone into graphic detail about how dad died, but I'd started to figure out what kind of things upset people by then.

"So I heard." Sunny eyed the rest of the group- mostly Tandi, and then slung her rifle over her shoulder. "Anyways, you all seem a bit restless. How would you like to do some target shooting? I know it's not exactly a great day for it, but I've got some empty sarsaparilla bottles and a pretty decent range set up."

"Say no more. Savanna, you got your glass?"

"Duh," said Savanna, reaching into the satchell at her hip and drawing her matte black binoculars. Tandi unslung her rifle and checked the chamber.

"Fuckin-A! You glass it, I'll fire- it'll be good to get some practice with this wind." They set off after Sunny. Well, Tandi did- Savanna looked at me like she was expecting me to come with them, or at least that's the impression I got. The wind was blowing her hair in her face, so it was really hard to figure out what she wanted.

"You can go on. I don't like loud noises," I said, nodding towards Tandi and Sunny. Savanna looked at them, then back at me. She didn't budge.

"That's okay- Tandi's got a spare set of military headphones in the cart. You'd be surprised how quiet it is, that way."

"Savanna, listen. I can't- I just can't…" I started. But, then I stopped because I didn't really know how to continue that sentence. Why exactly didn't I want to be around irons again? The noise, mostly, which she just gave me a solution to. I mean, one had killed my father, but that was kind of a flimsy excuse. Like, this one girl was really mean to me when I was younger, but that doesn't give me an excuse to go around hating women. Why would barking-irons be any different?

This was shitty reasoning, of course. But, then again, I didn't understand Post Traumatic Stress yet, so I was only working with what I had. Also, I didn't want to look like a complete pussy in front of Savanna. I didn't get why at the time, but I was finding myself _oddly_ influenced by her opinion of me- imagined or not.

"Fine. Grab the earmuffs."

I was making a mistake, and I knew it. Me and irons, they didn't go well together. But then again, neither did me and adventure, and yet here I was, defying the odds, spending my time with dangerous people. Maybe it was time for me to start acting like it.

-Break-

Despite the magical noise-cancelling effects of the headphones, I could still _feel_ the sound of the sniper rifle as it vibrated through my whole body. Somewhere in the distance, a Sarsaparilla bottle full of dirty water exploded into a million pieces.

"Boom! Headshot! Hostile neutralized!" cried Tandi, cackling maniacally and drawing back the bolt on her rifle. A big, shiny cylinder kicked out the side, and fell at my feet. Savanna lowered her binoculars.

"Only because I was spotting. You'd have whizzed to the left if I hadn't corrected you at the end there, said Savanna, clearing her calculator and switching the tabs on my pip-boy. Tandi laughed. I marveled at how well I could hear the voices, even though everything else was muted.

"Oh, ain't you a delicious part of this complete breakfast? If I weren't here, the bullet wouldn't have been fired."

"Would you be willing to bet on it? 20 caps says that I could get Sunny to hit one of those bottles at 150 meters!"

"I ain't takin that bet. I've been helping Sunny with her aim since she was a little girl- Ain't that right, Sunny?"

"It's true! You've been a good teacher, too- I've never met anyone else who has the same…"

"Kinesthetic sense?" offered Savanna. Sunny shrugged.

"Sure. She's got an instinct for bullets. I guess I've probably picked up a little of that, because I almost never miss these days." Tandi was still wearing her helmet, but I could feel the pride emanating off of her. If I didn't know better, I'd think she was flattered.

"Well, alright. I guess that rules out Sunny. But, I think I've got a better idea-" Savanna looked at me, and I shook my head. _Whatever it was, I didn't want to be involved._

"I bet you _50_ caps that I can get Isaac to hit one of those bottles at 150 meters!"

Oh.

_Oh, no._

_Oh, HELL no!_

"Say that again? I must have gone deaf," said Tandi, cocking her helmeted head at Savanna. Savanna stood firm.

"I bet you 50 caps that I can get Isaac to hit one of those bottles that you were shooting at."

Tandi laughed. "Oh, that's funny. Fifty caps? You will pay me, **FIFTY** caps, if you can't get this kid to hit a shot at that range." Savanna nodded earnestly. "Alright. Easy deal- here you go, doc, rifle's yours!"

"But- but, I haven't fired an iron since I was nine!" I protested, taking the massive thing into my hands. I reeled a little bit as it was handed off to me, because it was friggin' _heavy,_ and also nearly as tall as me. I was left wondering how Tandi even carried it without getting some serious back-pain as Savanna adjusted her binoculars and motioned for me to get down. It was all happening so fast, like some sort of bad dream...

"Alright, first step is to lay down on your belly. If you try to shoulder fire this thing, you _will_ hurt yourself," she said, patting my shoulder. Meekly, I sank down to my knees, and then onto my belly, still holding the weird green rifle at an arm's length. I wasn't even really sure where to hold it, so I just did what felt natural and stuck my fingers into the trigger hole and rested my hand against the comfy-looking grip that had been carved out of the stock.

The rifle was oddly unadorned, considering how this was The Scourge of Kiev's legendary service rifle. Supposedly, she'd had it since the battle of Kiev, when special forces from all around the world gathered to put down a Russian cult that threatened to awaken an old superweapon. During the battle, she had, again, _supposedly_ been awestruck by our own Desert Rangers, and decided to leave her regiment to fight for the New California Republic. Lots of exaggerations, probably, but I was pretty certain that she'd been using this rifle for longer than I'd been alive. It was iconic.

Not that mom read me her comics, or anything. Or that I felt kind of special to be holding her personal killing-machine.

"Alright, now, move your finger away from the trigger- you don't want to fire early," said Savanna, kneeling down beside me.

"Honestly, I'd really rather not fire at all," I admitted. My hands were shaking as I found my way around the weapon. It was all oddly natural, considering my usual aversion to weapons. I felt powerful when I held the rifle- a feeling that I didn't like.

"Alright, now, sight down the scope. Your target is going to be the second sarsaparilla to the left of that big rock- let's call that rock, uh, Grover. You see Grover?" I nodded. I could, in fact, see Grover! The scope was kind of blurry, but I knew how to adjust that. I scrolled the wheel where the two parts of the scope connected, and brought the image into focus.

"What are you doing?" asked Savanna. I pointed to the variable-zoom.

"Zeroing. I used to use a scope that was a lot like this one as a telescope." I checked the faded white numbers and lines on the side of the scope. "I'm zoomed in at about… five-point-seven? Let's just say five point five…"

"Which is it? I need exacts here," said Savanna, typing madly into her calculator. There wasn't a sheet of paper in sight, which means that Savanna must have been pulling the necessary equations right out of her head. I found that both impressive and kind of scary. _How many shots had she made with Tandi?_

"Five point seven. I was just going with point-five because I thought it'd be simpler."

"Mhm."

Some time passed as Savanna did her calculations. To pass the time, I tried to line up the top-chevron on my optic with Grover, then with the target off in the distance. There was a whole stack of chevrons that I could have lined up, and also some indicators on either side of the chevrons, but I was pretty sure that you were supposed to use the top one for aiming.

"Okay. Now, I want you to line up that top-triangle with the target- let's call that one Sally. Have you got that?" asked Savanna. I nodded.

"Already done. Um, should I take my glasses off first?" I asked. Savanna shook her head.

"Nope. But, when you fire, move your head back a little- the thing kicks, and you don't want it smashing your glasses." I cringed as I imagined the broken glass flying inwards with all the force of rifle-kick, probably too quickly for my eyelids to close. I definitely did _not_ want that. "Anyways, here comes the hard part. The wind speed is a pretty constant 15.3 kilometers an hour, per the anemometer over there, so I've been doing all my calculations based on that. Based on the distance that I measured for the last bottle, the target is roughly 150 meters away- if there's an issue, it's gonna be because that's wrong. So, we're going to aim a little high." I waited while Savanna sighted down her binoculars. Every once and awhile, she'd put two of her fingers in front of the lenses, then move them out, then back. She made a, 'hmm,' sound. "...Okay, so, now that you've got the top sight on, uh, ' _Sally,'_ you're going to move it so that the fourth faint little line to the left- so, the one right next to the first bold line on the left- is right on top of Sally. Got that?"

"Okay, quick question- isn't the scope zeroed so that I can reliably hit stuff at this range by lining it up with one of the chevrons?" I asked, turning my head away from the scope. Savanna nodded.

"Well, yeah, but it's super windy today, so we've gotta take that into account. Plus, there's a tiny bit of bullet drop at this range and no mirage to set it off, so we're going to go for about the height of the second chevron's tip. But, not yet."

I shrugged. "Alright." It took me a few seconds to get it right, but soon I had Sally right where Savanna wanted her. "Okay, I got Sally right under the fourth line to the left. What now?"

"Now you're going to raise the barrel just a _tiny_ bit, so that the bottom of Sally is lined up with the top of the second triangle. Can you do that?"

"Yeah, give me a second…" At first I moved it too much, then too little, and then I completely threw myself off by moving it to the side. Quickly recalling where Savanna had told me to put my sights, I remedied the issue and got the bottle where she wanted it. At this point, no point of it was touching any part of the optic. I was starting to wonder what the point of the damn thing was.

"Okay, have you got it there?" she asked. I nodded. "Good. Execute."

I was confused for a moment. Then, I realized that she was telling me to shoot it.

"Oh. Alright, firing it…" I depressed the trigger slowly, unsure of exactly how much weight I'd need to put on it. It was starting to give me anxiety. "Jesus, how heavy is this thing? I'm pressing it, but it just ain't-!"

The shockwave traveled through my entire body. At first, the flash and the smoke clouded my view, but I lifted my head up just in time to see the vapor trail of the bullet fading as it tore through the air.

_Oh, that's never gonna hit,_ even as the lead shore through the sand. Savanna had been right about the left-right stuff, but I definitely shot way high. The massive .338 round passed ineffectually above the bottle, making a massive plume of sand in the distance.

Feeling oddly shameful, I slid the bolt back, and kicked out the old casing. It fell harmlessly behind me, making a little clinking noise as it hit the pebbles.

_Damn, that hurt!_

"Alright, so we went a little high. Ready for shot two?" Asked Savanna. Both me and Tandi looked at her like she was crazy.

"Um, honey, you missed your shot. Give me my goddamn money," said Tandi, extending her hand. Savanna shook her head.

"I never specified the first shot! Just that I could get Isaac to hit it," she said, grinning and punching some new numbers into her calculator. Tandi yanked her helmet off- she was scowling.

"Why, you sneaky- you wouldn't have given me more than one shot! Why's he get to try again!?" She shouted, glaring at me like I was some sort of roach. I threw my hands into the air.

"Hey, I'm just an interchangeable variable! Let's not do anything terrible to me!"

"How about we don't do anything terrible to anyone- and give Isaac the rest of the magazine, to account for the open-ended terms," suggested Sunny, stepping in between the three of us. Tandi's eyes didn't get any less cold. "That's, what- 8 bullets now? How's that sound to you?"

"One shot," spat Tandi, turning away. Savanna gave me a sneaky thumbs-up as Tandi put her helmet back on. "One shot, that's all you're getting. He still ain't gonna hit it, so it don't matter."

"Hear that Isaac? Let's go again- The wind's the same, so all we're going to change is the-"

"Hold on," I said, rubbing my aching arm, "That kinda fucking hurt! Is there some way I can fire this thing without it trying to tear my arm off?"

"Yeah, actually- lemme show you," said Tandi kneeling down beside me. Savanna rolled her eyes.

"Oh, lord," she muttered. I looked around suspiciously.

"Um, what are you gonna do? Is this like a-"

"There's a trick that I always like to use. Can you see my hand up here?"

_It's a trap!_ mouthed savanna, but I nodded anyways. "Um, yes?"

"It's very simple. All you've gotta do is hold the rifle just like you were- yeah, just like that, and then-"

BAM! Before I could process it, Tandi had brought her palm directly into my forehead, causing my head to snap back as my glasses flew up past my eyes, and onto my forehead. My helmet fell off my head, and the loose chinstrap pulled on my throat.

Immediately, I could feel my nose flooding with the visceral, overwhelming _smell_ of being hit. 

"And then, you man the hell up! _Pain is good, feel the goodness_!"

Savanna and Sunny exchanged a look, and Sunny backed up. With her out of the way, Savanna stalked up to Tandi, clenching her fists and coming uncomfortably close to her. Tandi crossed her arms defiantly. Despite Tandi's imposing height and Savanna's obvious frustration, neither woman flinched.

"I'm sorry Tandi, but that's not okay. Do something like that again, and you've lost yourself a friend." She let that sink in for a second, then backed up, still scowling at the older woman. I looked away in embarrassment, because I always felt bad when I caused arguments, but I could hear her footsteps coming closer until she stopped and kneeled down beside me. She placed a hand on my face before I could look away.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, course. Just scared me a little," I said. I pulled my helmet back on by the strap, and felt under my nose. "I don't even think I'm bleeding."

"Hell no you ain't- if I wanted to make you bleed, you'd be lying in a pool of it," said Tandi, unsheathing her knife and tossing it into the air. As usual, she caught it with practiced ease, and twirled it around a little to remind me that she could. Savanna shook her head.

"He isn't a soldier, Tandi! You can't reasonably expect him to be anything like you!"

"I ain't asking him to be like me- just telling him to show some spine!"

"Hey, just because a man doesn't shoot things all the time doesn't mean he's spineless. His dad saved this whole town without firing a shot, and I'd say he's a braver person than me."

As much as I loved being compared to my father all the time, I decided that I was done with this argument. In a roundabout way, I'd started it, so I decided to end it.

"Everyone, quit talking- you're givin' me a headache. Are we doing the bet or not?" I asked, pressing my fingers against my temples to sell the effect. A couple seconds of nonverbal communication flew right over my head, then Savanna sighed.

"If you're still up for it. Let me check the numbers…" A little while longer passed in uncomfortable silence as Savanna checked the pip boy and put some things into her calculator. Sunny kept looking at me funny while I eased into a comfortable shooting position, shifting my weight away from the little rocks and pebbles that bit into my side and angling my face away from the little flecks of sand that the wind blew into my skin. Thankfully, my fire-helmet blocked most of it, and I was able to focus on the beer bottle in the scope. I positioned the middle of the bottle right at the tip of the topmost red chevron.

"Okay… So, do you remember where we had it last time? Do that, but make it so that the neck of the bottle is tucked into the crook of the top triangle, _then_ move it over to the fourth line. Tell me when you've got it."

My hands were steadier this time, and it didn't take me long to get the bottle positioned just like Savanna asked in the scope. I held my breath.

"Got it," I said, finger hovering over the trigger. It wasn't a big adjustment, but I was pretty sure that she got it right. I started to depress the trigger.

"Alright. Execute!"

I didn't even hear the rifle this time, or feel the kick as it vibrated through my body- you never do, when a shot hits home. I just gasped a little as the top of the bottle exploded, leaving behind a jagged brown stump that spilled out dirty brown water like a little tiny waterfall. Despite the poor visibility through the scope, and my less-than-stellar vision, I could see it like I was standing right there. I _felt_ that bottle break.

"Whoa! Nice shot!" said Sunny, placing a hand over her brow to block out the sun. I shuddered.

"Oh, yeah. That was really something." I stood up, and handed the rifle off to Tandi, who stood completely rigid as I gave her back her weapon. As soon as her fingers touched it, she pulled it back greedily, tearing it out of my hands and holding it close to her chest. I nodded again. "Yeah."

I felt sick. I don't know if it was because we'd given it a name and projected life on it, or if the target exploding brought up old memories. But, something about it was making my skin crawl, and I wanted to forget about it as soon as I could.

"Thanks, Isaac. Sorry about Tandi," said Savanna, putting her hand on my arm. I nodded.

"Mhm."

Then there was a flash of lightning, and a clap of thunder. Up above, the sky opened up, and the rain started pouring straight down. I suppressed the urge to scream as it soaked through my coat, and began to touch my skin.

"I have to go," I said, brushing Savanna's arm away. She didn't stop smiling.

"Alright. I'm gonna practice shooting in the rain with Sunny and Tandi for a little while, but I'll come inside as soon as we're done." Sunny raised her hand.

"Actually, I'm going to go hunt some geckos- they come out in droves whenever it rains. Cheyenne's sick, so if one of you wants to watch my back…"

"We'll keep an eye out for trouble," offered Tandi, tapping on the scope of her rifle. Sunny nodded.

"Good! I'll see you guys soon, I hope."

"We will," said Tandi.

"Yeah- and be careful, geckos are mean!" Said Savanna, waving to Sunny as she stolled off into the rain. Then she turned back to me, probably because I was starting to look restless. "Anyways, I guess I'll see you then. Have fun with Trudy!"

I put on a fake, tortured smile, and then turned tail and sprinted towards the saloon, ripping off my comtacs and tucking them into my coat to keep them from getting damaged. I wasn't even really thinking about the fact that they were under my helmet, just that the rain is evil and it destroys nice things. I hated the way it felt as it soaked into my clothes, made them all heavy and sticky. I hated the way it got in my face, and gathered on my lenses, and touched my skin like a thousand cold little knives.

On my way to the saloon, I tripped and tumbled over and hit my helmet on a rock, but I didn't even process it- I just scrambled back up and kept running. By the time I realized that my head kind of hurt and my coat was covered in wet sand, I was already on the porch of the saloon, where the old, dark skinned man who I vaguely remembered as, "Pete," sat in a rocking chair, seemingly in a world of his own. He nodded at me as I passed by.

" _Hi mister Pete_ ," I struggled out, hunching over and sucking in as much air as I could with each labored breath. I wiped some of the rain and sweat off my forehead, then looked up at the door. Even under the roof of the porch, I could still feel the mist from the heavy rain blowing against my skin.

"You took a bad fall back there. You alright?" Asked Pete. I nodded.

"Yeah. Door ain't locked, right?"

"Nope."

I smiled graciously, and opened up the door. Inside, the light was warm, and the windows were shuttered. I could hear Gram saying something really loud, and Trudy laughing. So, I walked in, closed the door, and peeked around the corner.

"… and that shark- well, it was less of a shark, more of a _megalodon!_ Big around as a, as a _submarine_ , or jet-plane! Anyways, we couldn't believe we pulled that bastard in with just a harpoon, and so no one had any idea what to do with it." Gram paused, and took a shot of some orange colored stuff in a glass. Whiskey, probably. "So… well, lemme think. God, it's all so distant now…" He looked up at the ceiling fan for a moment. Trudy hung on his every word, leaning over the bar and putting her chin in her hands. After some apparent thinking, Gram continued.

"Well, as I remember it, we tried to ask the captain what to do, but he was sleeping- didn't hear a word, even when we tried to radio him. And, this shark thing, it was flopping around a bunch now, and gettin' dangerously close to takin off someone's arm, or leg or something. Like… that!" He snapped his hand at me from atop his bar stool, and I yelped, jumping backwards and slipping forwards as the rain on the bottom of my shoes slid between me and the floor. Before I could fall face first onto the floor, though, I caught on to the top of the bar, and steadied myself. Trudy burst into laughter, and Gram just kept smirking. I rubbed my forehead.

"Howdy Gram. Glad to see you too," I said, and carefully climbed atop one of the annoyingly tall bar stools. I'd fallen off one of those as a child, cracking my skull and bleeding all over the floor. The incident would remain with me for the rest of my life; I would never fall off one of the damn things again.

Beside me, Gram was gulping down some more whiskey. He drank steady and slow, but the amount of fluid he consumed was, nonetheless, absolutely incredible- based on the amount of empty cups at the table, he'd probably drank at least 2 small handles of the stuff by now. Even Mom would have been near-unconscious at this point, and she could hold her liquor. Did Gram's weird biology do something with that?

"So, y'know, there's this big friggin beast on the ship, tearing itself up on the deck polish, thrashing like a madman. And, we were thinking about just putting it back, until suddenly some friend ah' mine- uh, Quinn, I think, pulls out his carbine and just starts firing into the thing- don't even warn us, just starts _shootin!_ We all cover our ears and go running the other direction. Now, it's windy, and its raining, and the gun is really goddamn loud, so some of us slip and fall in the rain, on that rough metal-polish stuff!" Gram stops and runs his hand against the bar, grimacing as the skin of a dozen sailors is peeled from their legs by the rough deck of the battleship. Both Trudy and I waited silently for him to continue.

"So, at the end of it, the shark's deader-than-dead, and pretty much everyone's got a big bloody scrape _somewhere_ , from slipping all over the deck. One guy, who's name is escapin' me right now, had a bunch of his nose peeled off- we searched all over the deck, couldn't find it anywhere- water must've washed it over the edge. Poor guy ended up looking like me for the rest of his life."

At this point, I was completely absorbed, trying desperately to figure out what had led up to this point in the story. The way that Gram was talking- not just with his mouth, but with his whole body- I could see it. It was like he was telling the story for himself and no one else, flinging his arms about and shaking his legs and leaning forward and backward with every motion in the (probably tall)-tale; a wild dance, without a care in the world for anyone else in the room.

In fact, I was so completely immersed that when he described his fallen buddy, I didn't even care about the horrendous medical inaccuracy, because the grimace that he delivered it with, and the way he touched his own un-nose, made it real for me. It wasn't hard for me to accept this new model of reality.

I guess I could start to see why Trudy kept letting him come back, even with his enormous tab. The man knew how to tell a tale.

"What did you do with the body?" Asked Trudy, leaning over the bar even further. Her eyes were open wide like a child's. Gram seemed surprised at first, then broke into a wide grin.

"Oh, you mean the shark? Well, whaddya think we did? We cut the fin off, made some soup out of it, and chopped the rest up to mix in with the other meats. Our cook was top class, could make a good hot meal outta anything," he recalled, swirling around the alcohol that was left in his cup. While he let that insanity sink in, he drank it all down in one long, measured gulp. "Y'know, now that I think of it, that shark had some weird shit in its stomach. No people, but no fish, neither- just a buncha junk that'd been floatin on the surface, and a tarnished silver watch. Since all of us marines were dirt poor, we fought over that by doing five-finger-fillet until everyone had stabbed themselves, c'ept one guy-"

"Was that you?" interrupted Trudy, "Did you get the watch?"

"Check my wrist," said Gram. He pulled up his sleeve. He was wearing a massive, gold-plated watch.

"Is that it?" asked Trudy, mystified. Gram chuckled.

"Oh, hell no. I stabbed myself on round two- maybe three. I was already way too liquored to win that one. I nicked this one off the corpse of some idiot gambler." When both of us looked curious at that, Gram just waved us away. "But that, friends, is a story for another day- or, at least, another hour. You got any more whiskey?"

Trudy checked behind the bar. "No, I don't think so. Gosh, I'm not used to you actually paying for drinks! I would've cut you off ages ago if all you were paying with was your war stories," she said, opening the cash register and accepting Gram's latest cap-payment. He grinned.

"Oh, I think they make great currency. I've got more of em than I care to remember, and everyone wants to hear em!" he replied, kicking his feet up on the bar and taking a cigar out of his jacket. He tried to light it, but it just wasn't catching. "Anyways, like I promised, I'll pay off the whole tab- all two thousand caps of it- once I get paid. Believe it or not, you ain't the only person who I've been shorting all these years. I'll be making a lot of payments by mail. Might need some reliable people to help guard those shipments." Gram gave me a look that I didn't like, and then kept trying to light his cigar, to no avail.

"Well, I appreciate your effort to tie up all your loose ends before you retire. Most people would probably take those hundred-thousand caps and run," said Trudy, polishing out one of the empty glasses with a dirty red towel. There was a little smudge that wouldn't come out, the crusty kind that you could wipe at for hours without getting rid of. I wondered how many times she'd tried to get rid of it. "Hell, I probably would've just hired myself a couple of guards and kicked back in the hub. Vegas is a risky choice."

"Right, which is why I'm settling all my debts before I get there. I've heard too-many stories about some rich old timer in a big city, getting bumped off by some asshole from the past who he owed money to. Hell, I was looking to retire to Old-Vegas before the war, so when I heard that they were bringing it back, I knew I had to get myself there- started planning for this shipment, or a shipment like this, for a while. The one that would let me tie all those dangerous loose ends…" Finally, Gram's cigar caught, and he immediately took a long, deep drag. It smelled like a pool-table mixed with a wood fireplace.

"Sounds like a solid plan to me. I'll have to call you up sometime, see how you're doing- you hear that they're planning on putting those old telephone lines to use again? I can't imagine how nice it'll be to not have to send a letter every time I want to talk with folks from out of town," said Trudy, staring at the dusty blue dial-up telephone that laid on the back counter, right next to the cracked red cup with the Six-gun in it. Based on the size of Goodsprings, I doubted that the phone was functional even within the town. Rigging those things could take a really long time, unless you had a good engineer around.

"I did- and, uh, speaking of talking with other people- why don't you check to see if Chet's got some whiskey? Haven't had any in ages, I'd pay double your normal price for a few handles of the stuff," said Gram, a tad desperately. Trudy shrugged.

"I don't see why not. Can I trust your friend here to keep an eye on you while you're in my bar?" she asked, regarding me with mock suspicion. I gave her a smile that I was just _sure_ was reassuring.

"Of course, ma'am. I'm _very_ trustworthy." She smiled.

"I'll take your word for it. You're Penny's son, right? You'll have to forgive my not remembering your name, but it's been a few years."

"Isaac," I replied, and she nodded.

"Right- I knew it was something biblical! How's Penny doing?"

"Um," I said. _How was I supposed to respond to that?_ I really didn't want Gram to know all that stuff, but I was also not a fantastic liar. All three of my functional brain-cells scrambled to find an acceptable answer.

"Ah, she's doing… pretty great, I think." There was an awkward silence. "Yeah. I mean, she's been sort of lonely, lately, without father being around, but… you know."

Thankfully, Trudy seemed to know. She nodded sagely. "Of course- I heard about what happened with your father. I can't believe that those kinds of terrible people are still about, with all the NCR presence lately." She started walking towards the door, but looked back at me one last time before she left. "I hope they caught him."

"Yeah, me too," I said. But, secretly, I kind of hope they didn't. The Followers would probably forgive him, and the NCR would just put him in prison if he didn't have any Legion affiliations. I liked to imagine that Caesar's Legion got him on one of his deliveries, or maybe some of those Great Khans; I'd heard they could be pretty brutal. Of course, my biggest fantasy for that courier had always been that he'd go the same way as my dad: shot to death in some lonely place, but how unlikely would that be?

A little bit of time passed once Trudy left. Gram stared at his empty cup for a while, then at the silent radio on the counter, then suddenly he was staring at me. I looked away.

"So, how's she really doing?" Asked Gram, cigar firmly planted between the teeth in the corner of his mouth. I shrugged.

"Not great. Kinda sick, after all the stress she's been under lately…"

"Mhm," said Gram. He started counting the caps in his pouch. "Now, Isaac, I've been around a while. Not sure exactly how many years now, but I wasn't a young man even when the bombs fell. And, since then, I've met a lotta people- some of em have been _liars._ " I nodded. The wasteland is full of bad people, after all. I'm sure that he'd seen plenty of liars.

_Wait, was he…?_

"And, y'know, I've gotten pretty good at sniffing 'em out. Salesmen, conmen, thieves, deserters…" He sucked in on his cigar, and then let some smoke out. The air was starting to get kind of thick with smoke.

"And then, of course, there are harmless little white-liars. People like yourself."

_Oh shit._

"It's alright! I get it, we're all entitled to some privacy. And, I don't mean to snoop- god knows I've got some things that I don't want anyone knowing. But, when I employ people, I like to understand what's pushin' em. What's making 'em tick." He hunched over, so that his face was uncomfortably close to mine. I had to blink back tears and set my jaw, which he probably saw right through. I was notoriously hard to read, but I figured only Tandi had any chance of missing my tells by now. Savanna was too perceptive to not notice, and Gram… Well, I guess he'd probably already met people like me.

"Why's it matter? I mean, you're right, I was lying- _my mom has cancer,_ so yeah, I'd say it's pretty bad. But unless you can help, I don't reckon that's any of your beeswax!" I said, staring at Gram's jacket and clenching my fists. It was a nice jacket- tweed, with a plaid pattern. Strangely clean, Just like everything that he wore.

"Because that _is_ my business- I can help! That's what I do, Isaac, I solve people's problems, and make friends out of it. Some of my friends help me run caravans, like Cook or Tandi. Some of em do me favors every once and awhile, like old Cannibal Johnson letting me use his cave. It all depends on what they can offer me, and what their problem is."

I relaxed a little. I mean, I kind of doubted that he could help me directly, but it would be good for him to understand why I wanted what I did.

"Okay. Well, I joined the caravan so that I could get to the Followers, since mom can't go there to get therapy anymore. If you could make them give me medicine, that's all I need. I can mail it to her with the Mojave express, and travel back with another caravan. So, for all that you're concerned, I'm just along for the ride," I said, running over my fantasy for how I'd rescue my mother from the slavering jaws of death for the tenth time that day. Gram looked at me like I was retarded.

"But Isaac, that won't _actually work._ Do you really need me to explain all the holes in that solution?" I didn't. I mean, I hadn't actually _planned_ any of this, I was just operating based on instinct. Since I wouldn't be in Vegas for at least a while still, I didn't really see it as being important just yet.

I remained silent.

"That's what I thought. You got connections there- hell, your aunt Julie runs the place, right? If the Followers could help your mom by sending stuff through the mail, they would. And, what makes you think that they even have the time and money to help her? They've been in a bad way these last couple years."

"What else can I do? I mean, I know there's lots of holes, but I gotta do something, and I don't see any better solutions!" I replied, my anger boiling over the edge. Was I really this powerless? Was there really _nothing_ rational that I could do?

"I can find you a better solution! That's what I'm trying to tell you- I know some people, some very _rich_ people, who could probably do more for you than the Followers ever could!"

"But why?" I asked, "Why would you help me? I can't shoot straight, or climb up mountains, or give you free stuff-"

"I'm retiring, Isaac. The kind of help that I need runs more along the lines of talent, and expertise- Both of which you've got by the ton." He took another puff of his cigar while he let that sink in. _I was valuable to him._ I don't know what exactly settled it, but I'd passed some sort of test, and now we were on trading terms. Favor for favor.

I didn't know how to feel.

"We don't have to talk about it now; I won't be able to do much for you until I've delivered this shipment. But, if you stick with me until then, and promise me some big favors for the future, then I can help you save her. I was thinking that I could bring you back to Sloan, too, so that you could help out that 'Tyrone' guy- seemed like that'd been bugging you."

I nodded. "That would be good," I said, which was an understatement. I couldn't quite understand the flood of emotions that I was feeling- I was happy and relieved and kind of scared, but I also wasn't even sure if I believed it. And, if he really could help, then I knew that I would do anything for it. If he could save my mom, it would be worth any favor.

"Thought you'd say so. I'm a helpful guy, just ask me!" He chuckled a little, and blew some smoke over the counter, and scratched his head with his nails. I drummed my fingers on the counter.

"And, um, thanks. If you save my mom, I'll do anything for you. I know you probably won't be running caravans any more, but whatever you need…"

"We'll talk about it later. I just wanted to let you know that you can stop worrying about your ma now- I'd hate to have the guy operatin' on me freaking out about his family while he's poking around my guts."

Just then, lightning flashed through the shuttered windows, and all of the lights went out.

As the thunder boomed in the distance, the front door creaked open, and someone stepped inside, slamming it behind them. Although the footsteps were muffled by the incredible noise of the storm outside, I could swear that they weren't the familiar high heels that Trudy had been wearing.

Grinning widely, Gram rolled his shoulders back, and put out his cigar on the counter. A little bit of smoke drifted up from the little spot of soot, which he swept off the counter with his sleeve.

"You got some whiskey, Chet?" He shouted, craning his neck to see around the corner. Then the back door opened, and he looked that way. He started moving his hand towards his coat.

"Hey, uh, who's that in the back?"

"That you, Savanna?" I asked, jumping off the stool. I started to walk around the corner, but then a long gun barrel poked around the edge, followed by a tall, burly man wearing thick leather armor. I backed right-the-hell-up.

"Where's the ranger?" came a voice from behind me. I whipped around, and saw a smaller, lankier man in a spring-green suit walking towards me with a little green pistol. I shrugged.

"I don't know who you're- I don't…" Now the bigger man was poking his gun-barrel against my chest, and the green-suited man was pointing his pistol at Gram. One by one, my senses went into overdrive, until I could feel every beat of my heart in my throat, and see every little drop of rain glistening on the gun barrel. An adrenaline surge that I was powerless to use.

_I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die._

"Where's the ranger!?" The man repeated. I just shook my head.

"I don't know," I croaked. I tried to put my hands in the air, but the big guy with the rifle shot a bullet into the ceiling and shouted something at me, so I stopped moving and held my breath. If I twitched, or shouted, or screamed, I knew he would put lots of little pieces of metal through every part of my body, and I would die. Gram was more relaxed than me, which made me angry and scared. I wanted to run over and make him stand still, but I also knew that I would die before I got there. So, I stood perfectly still, glaring at him and trying not to cry.

"Where is she!? Where is the Ranger?" Shouted the man in the green suit, waving his gun at Gram's head. Gram placed his hands on the bar table, and kept his head straight. He wouldn't look at any of them.

"Hunting Geckos, probably. God knows that the bitch ain't earnin her paycheck." The men didn't look convinced.

"Give us the key to that shipment, and we won't kill you. We'd really rather we didn't have a mess," said the large man. The smaller man grinned.

"Right. Maybe you didn't know who you were working for. Lots of people don't."

"There isn't a key! They told me that no one could open it until it was delivered!" shouted Gram, throwing his arms out in protest as the smaller man walked towards him and started pulling his coat off. The big guy poked me in the gut with his rifle.

"You, sit in that booth! Keep your hands on the table- if I see you reach for anything, you're dead."

Immediately, I scrambled to sit down in the booth, sliding to the end and positioning myself by the shuttered window. Together, the two men searched Gram, with the bigger guy watching guard and the smaller one searching pockets. Already, they'd found a big, ivory-handled six-gun, a derringer pistol, a flare gun…

It was so dark, I realized- I couldn't see well in the dark. Without thinking about why, I pulled on the string that opened up the shutters, and let the dull grey light flood in. No one seemed to notice.

"Not seeing shit. Let's kill em and search the bodies," said the shorter man, dropping Gram's coat on the floor and doing a chamber check on his pistol. My heart jumped up into my throat.

"You know why we can't do that, Ollie. Search the blonde kid."

'Ollie' groaned and walked over towards me. He was holding his pistol level with my head, which made me want to duck. He did a motion at me.

"Stand up."

"Um," I said, trying to stand up in the booth. I couldn't really fit.

" **Get out of the booth**!" he screamed, slamming his fist on the table. I did as I was told, keeping my hands as far in the air as I could put them. I wasn't crying yet, just shaking- uncontrollably, harder than I'd ever shaken in my life. _How long until one of them shoots me?_

'Ollie' started by tearing my coat open, popping off all of the buttons and making them clatter onto the wooden floor. He started to take my coat off, but then he stopped, and looked out the window, perplexed. He squinted.

"What… Hey, Werner, there's something shining out there." He kept squinting. "Yeah, I think they might be trying to send a-"

He never finished his sentence.

[+]


	12. The Slaughterhouse

(+)12

2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

12102 BYTES FREE

HOLLOWTAPE LOADED: "THE-SLAUGHTERHOUSE"

INITIALISING…

SUCCESS!

**STATUS**

Battery Level: 67%

Wireless Signal: (?)

Operating Temperature: 95F

**HEALTH**

BP: 170/120

SPO2: 100%

Temp: 98.5F

RR: 18

HR: 160

**TIME**

Day: 28 SEP. 2279

Time: 17:13

**CLIMATE**

Current Temperature: 58F

Atmospheric Pressure: 507 mmHG ( **WARNING! SEVERE WEATHER ALERT!** )

Background Radiation: 0.121 RAD

* * *

When father died, I'd been right there- I'd seen him run backwards, and slam against the wall. I'd seen him bleed. But that had been dark, and surreal, and so strangely distant. I'd run away before his heart stopped beating.

When the bullet hit Ollie, it was not distant, or surreal, or any of those things. The glass shattered, and then Ollie's head was all ragged and his face was covered in cuts. The shrapnel had cut me too, but I didn't notice.

And there was something else- the other side of his skull, it _bloomed_ out _,_ like a pink cactus-flower. His skull hadn't exploded, but a big chunk had been tossed out against the wall. His wide open mouth and both of his nostrils were all spilling out rivers of bright-red blood. So, so much blood- layers and layers of it, more than could possibly be in his entire body.

That's all I noticed before his knees gave out and he fell to the ground, started leaking all over the floor. A solid red stream, pouring out from between his eyes.

"OLLIE!" Shouted the other man, in a voice that was far too shrill for his massive size. Before he could react, Gram had grabbed one of his guns off the counter and fired it over and over again into the large man's body. He went reeling into the bar, stumbling over one of the stools and slipping forward onto his face in a huge crash of glass cups and empty bottles. I didn't see no blood, but I could imagine all the tiny little holes- all the burst arteries, fractured bones, ruptured organs... Ollie just kept squirting bright-red blood out the side of his head, and even though the stream had slowed, it was still an impossible amount. Gathering, pooling, _bubbling…_

"Ollie," I said, staring at the dead man. My ears were ringing loudly, and the buzzing wouldn't stop. "Ollie, Ollie Ollie…"

"Let's get outta here," said Gram, sliding back into his jacket. There were little flecks of blood all over the plaid pattern. It didn't smell like cigars no more.

"Ollie. That's a nice name. I'll bet his real name was Oliver," I said. I felt around my face; there were deep, bloody tracts in my skin where the glass and shredded copper had sheared through. They itched and burned.

"Isaac, come on!" shouted Gram. I covered my ears.

"Don't make me think about it,," I said, trying not to speak too loud. The blood was pooling around my feet.

"Come here-" Gram almost grabbed my sleeve, but then thought better of it; _he'd learned his lesson._ Instead, he made a big moving gesture, and started walking towards the back door. I could feel the rain misting in through the shattered window as I stood completely still, rooted in place. My eyes were stinging with tears now.

"I didn't want them to die. I was scared of them, but I never wanted them dead." I looked at the bigger man. He was still breathing. "Do you think-"

"Do you want us dead too? There'll be more of them, we have to-"

"Isaac!"

Slowly, I turned my head to look at the source of the noise, minimizing my movements like I was still being held at gunpoint. Savanna came bursting into the room, completely ignoring the bodies and the blood and running towards me, Tandi marching on in behind her. I backed up into the wall.

"Give me five seconds to process- just, FIVE SECONDS!" I shouted, and pushed her away. I covered my face with my hands, which forced the shrapnel into my skin and made the sweltering cuts sting even more.

I tried to pull my thoughts together.

_Ollie is dead. He is not breathing or twitching._

I turned to the larger man- 'Volker,' the smaller man had called him. I tried to remember where he'd been shot.

_At least five exit-less wounds across the chest, gut, groin, and thighs. Likely wounds to the lungs and intestines- possible damage to kidneys, spleen, liver, and heart. Possible artery damage._

I got down on one knee and checked the man's neck-pulse; I could feel it, so his systolic blood pressure was at least 70. But, when I checked his radial pulse, I couldn't get anything, so he was probably going into decompensated shock. I rolled him onto his back to try to find where the bullets had hit.

"Wha- what…?" He mumbled, staring at me with dull, glassy eyes. I put a hand on his ashen cheek.

"I'm here to help you." His eyes started getting all red and shiny.

"No, you- you gotta help Ollie! He got shot in the- it, it looked really bad," said Volker, weakly brushing my hand away. I nodded.

"I already helped Ollie. It wasn't as bad as it looked."

"Isaac, the fuck are you doing?" snapped Tandi, stalking up behind me with her barking-iron raised. I didn't look at her.

"I got a stimpack in my coat. I think I can still help him." I drew my utility knife and flipped out the blade. I started to slice along the front of his road leathers, opening it up along an uneven seam. I wasn't seeing any wounds yet, but-

**BANG!** There was a flash of light and heat from behind me, and Volker's entire body jerked. Every muscle in his body tensed up, and his mouth filled up with blood, far, far too fast to really be happening. The bullet had gone right through his forehead and exited messily out the back. As his head twitched erratically against his shoulder, the massive puddle of blood and brains under the exit wound kept growing. Streams of the stuff slid down his forehead and out his nose, too fast to be solid but too slow to be liquid. After a few seconds, the blood finally started to well up in the tiny little hole in his forehead, and seeped down between his eyes.

He was still breathing, and moving his arm around in involuntary circles, so Tandi shot him again, this time blasting off his jaw and sending chunks of his teeth and mandible flying into my face. After a few seconds of shocked stillness, I covered my ears, trying to make the ringing stop that many seconds too late. It was all that I could hear now.

Volker didn't move after that.

I was covered in blood, all over my skin and clothes. The lenses of my glasses were covered in little tiny droplets of red. I didn't even try to process that- I knew I couldn't. I just sat there, staring at Ollie, and staring at Volker, while Tandi blew the smoke away from her gun. I was simultaneously taking it all in, and processing none of it.

" _Ó, gāisǐ_ Tandi!" screamed Savanna, looking away from Volker's ruined corpse. His tear-filled eyes stared on, unblinking and unmoving. They didn't sit right in their sockets.

"Legion fuckers get killed. Back off or I shoot him again."

"Alright, now _you're_ slowing us down. You too, Isaac- they're both dead, we gotta go."

It took me a second to realize that Gram was talking to me. _Who was dead?_ Oh, right, the men on the floor. The ones with the pink flowers coming out of their heads. Ollie wasn't leaking much anymore, but Volker still had blood pouring out of his nose. The ruined jaw wasn't bleeding much, though the blood from his throat was starting to flood over the edge, out between his jagged, shattered teeth.

I needed time to think, to process what had happened. It would only be a few seconds- if they'd just give me **five seconds** , then I could finally parse it all and understand what was going on again.

_Apparently, they didn't want to let that happen._

"I'll just grab him," said Tandi. She put a firm, _crushing_ hand on my shoulder and tried to move me, so I yanked her arm forward and pulled it out of its socket. I couldn't hear the crack over the buzzing and ringing, but the scream of pain let me know I'd done it right.

Of course, I had no plan to follow that up with, and I was on the ground in half a second flat as her other hand smashed into my forehead, throwing me onto my back. I gnashed my teeth together as the rim of my helmet impacted the hardwood floor. A little chunk of one of my molars slid down my throat.

" **He broke my arm!** Motherfucker broke my arm!"

"Yeah, I learned my lesson with a face to the floor. He's stronger than he looks."

_God, why were they still talking?_ Hadn't I just told them to shut up?

"Make the buzzing stop!" I shouted, since they weren't listening. Everyone stopped talking for a second, then they kept talking, and moving around, and getting closer to me. The buzzing and the ringing filled my whole head, all the time, without any sort of break. There wasn't room for anything else but the occasional fleeting observation.

I wanted to make everyone shut up. I would use one of the guns on the floor, but those were all too loud. What could I make them die with? I had my utility knife. I could stab Tandi in the kidney or the eye, and she wouldn't be able to talk anymore. Maybe if I stabbed her kidney it would hurt so much that she couldn't scream.

" _... Why do we keep him? He's a liability!"_

" _Because he's useful, and it's predictable! If you hadn't touched him, he wouldn't have broken your arm!"_

" _How the hell was I supposed to know that!?"_

They kept arguing about me while I curled up on the floor and covered my ears. The ringing wasn't getting any better. The nails that stuck out of the floor were stabbing at me through my wet, disgusting clothes, so I kept squirming and trying to not be on top of any, but then I was lying in the blood that was all over the floor so I had to move again. Gradually, I made my way back to the booth, where I tucked myself in and screamed until I ran out of energy and wasn't able to move anymore. It was a very small space, but I could fit if I squeezed all of my arms and legs together very hard.

I like tight spaces. They make me feel cozy.

-Break-

After that, I vaguely remember being dragged out of the bar, out into the rain. If I hadn't been completely catatonic, I would have said something, but I couldn't- I could only observe, as the world popped in and out around me. All of my senses were dulled. All of the sound that I could hear sounded like it was pounding through ten feet of water. I heard some people yelling, and cart wheels spinning.

Then we were on an airish, windy hilltop, and the rain had somehow picked up even more- I couldn't see much out of my glasses, and even if I could, I would mostly just see fog and rain covering everything. Then I was inside a house with a metal roof, and something was making my skin warmer even though my clothes were soaked through. I decided that it would be a good time to sleep, because we were finally standing still, and I hadn't felt so drained since the night of my father's death.

The sky was still bright, but I slept for hours.

-Break-

I woke up to the soothing sound of a crackling fire, and the gentle pattering of rain on the tin roof above. That's always the first thing I notice when I wake up- the sounds. It's not always the most obvious sound in a room that I'll wake up to, just the one that makes me feel the most. It helps me get oriented.

So, I was a little pissed off when I woke up and my ears were still ringing. For some reason, I couldn't smell anything, and I didn't have my glasses so I couldn't see very well. My body ached too, pretty much all of it, and I knew I was probably covered in welts and bruises. All across my face, I felt something that I knew should be painful, but wasn't. Loose, irritated skin, jagged, itchy lines… marks from the fight, I guessed. I wasn't remembering specifics, but I vaguely remembered getting my face ripped up when a bullet went through a window. I'd been standing, or sitting maybe, at a booth in the bar…

"Gram?" I asked, looking around the dry, toasty shack. I didn't see anyone else there, but I could hear someone moving. Who was behind me- no, didn't matter. What had happened to Gram? We'd been together, I think, and he'd been in danger. But, then he'd shot the two of them- no, one of them, and I don't think he died after that. Had anyone else gotten hurt?

I'd hurt someone, I remembered. Gram, maybe? No, it had been a girl. Tandi had been scaring me, so maybe I hurt her? But, I couldn't remember, and there was one other person who I could've hurt...

"Savanna?" I asked. I heard the rustling of towels behind me.

"I'm here."

"Did I hurt you?"

She was quiet for a second. The ringing in my ears intensified, and I wanted desperately to make it stop. Tinnitus is way too nice a name for something so horrible.

"You never touched me- just told me to back away. You hurt Tandi's arm, but she fixed it."

"Good." I could deal with hurting Tandi, after what she'd done. Executing my patients is a one-way trip to hurt-town.

"Are you feeling alright? Like, I don't expect you to be perfect, after all that, but you aren't like, paralyzed or anything?" asked Savanna. I shook my head.

"Everything works except for my nose. Why doesn't my nose work?"

"I don't know."

Neither of us talked for a while. I tried to fiddle with the buttons on my coat, then realized that I didn't have that. I didn't have my shirt on either, just my pants and a bunch of towels and the sleeping bag by the fire. I didn't usually mind not having clothes, but I felt oddly exposed without my coat beside me. I looked around the shed for it, but didn't see it anywhere. Of course, I could have missed it- the shed was surprisingly big, and it had lots of shelves and cabinets and appliances. It'd probably been someone's hideout, once.

God, the ringing was distracting! I tried to cover my ears to make the ringing stop, but then remembered that it was inside my head. Also, one of my ears had a bunch of skin hanging loose, so I shivered a little when I touched it. Nothing hurt very much, but it did feel really weird. Somehow, the body will always find a way to remind us that we're miserable.

Eventually, Savanna stood up and poked at the fire with a rusty crowbar. I couldn't actually see the fire, on account of it being in a little hearth, but I could see the flickering light, and hear the crackling noise. I still couldn't smell it, which was disappointing. I liked the smell of fire, as long as it wasn't close to me and I wasn't also inhaling smoke and getting it in my eyes.

"So… do you want to be left alone? I get the feeling you're kind of tired of people," asked Savanna. I heard a couple of heavy-sounding things fall over in the hearth, and a bunch of sparks came flying into view. I clenched every muscle in my body until the sparks cooled off and turned into harmless flakes of ash.

Savanna looked at me expectantly, and I remembered that she'd asked me a question- I guess I thought that the answer had been obvious enough that I didn't need to say it.

"Oh- no, I don't think so. Long as Tandi stays out," I said, thinking back to the evening leading up to now. I wasn't really sure if it was daytime the next day, or nighttime of the day before, but the deaths were still fresh in my mind.

"I don't think she wants to. She doesn't really care that much about the arm, but she's pretty sure that those guys you were treating were legion assassins. I don't know about the specifics, but the Legion did some pretty awful things to her once," said Savanna. I nodded.

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking. She said something about them trying to take her body away from her, and how what I did reminded her of that." I paused for a moment. I wasn't sure how I wanted to say my next sentence. "Do you think they did… _that_ to her?"

"You mean rape?" Asked Savanna. I nodded. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe? I mean, that's what the legion does to women, so it could be. But, I'm pretty sure it went deeper than that."

"What do you mean, deeper?" I asked, leaning closer to Savanna so I could get a better look at her face. It was hard to parse her expressions, since I wasn't wearing my glasses.

"Who knows? All I know is that whatever they did to her, it ended her career. The NCR doesn't really have tight standards for mental stability, so she must have been a complete wreck to get booted out of the military. That was her life, after all- she probably fought against it all the way."

Just then, the door opened, and my breath caught in my throat- the subject of our badly timed conversation was standing in the doorway, metaphorical lightning flashing behind her. I guess the literal lightning was too frightened to show itself.

She walked inside, hunching over to fit through the doorway. For the first time since I met her, she was voluntarily not wearing a single piece of her uniform. She'd changed into a pair of baggy hiking shorts and a shirt that was too small for her, with a stained towel wrapped around her head. Even though I'd seen many of the scars before, it was still shocking how many of the things she had; all over her arms and legs, there were welts and burns and hairless patches where bullets and blades had gone through her. I hadn't noticed before, but the back of one of her thighs was also severely disfigured, with the mottled skin nearly clinging to the bone. If every scar told a story, then Tandi's body was The Lord of the goddamn Rings.

I was less than happy to see her.

"Heard you talking about me. What about?"

Savanna and I exchanged a look. I didn't know what it meant, but I felt like it was compulsory in situations like this. Tandi started tapping her foot impatiently on the rough wooden floor, which was kind of scary because she did it so slowly and stared at me the whole time.

"Just- just, wondering what exactly the legion did to you. You know, out of curiosity," I said. Tandi narrowed her eyes at me, and Savanna gasped a little; I wondered if maybe I should have lied about that one.

"They ended my life. What y'all are looking at now? It's a ghost." She walked into the middle of the room, and picked up a little brown bottle that had been laying there- peroxide, I think, from my medical kit. She tucked it into the crook of her splinted arm. "I think you should stop wondering. You'll live longer."

She gave Savanna an angry look, and then she left. A bit of rain blew in before she slammed the door shut, and then Savanna and I were alone again. She sighed, and I couldn't tell if it was a relieved sigh or an angry one. The difference is very small, and after what had happened, it could be either.

"Gosh, you _really_ need to work on not saying stupid shit! I'm pretty sure she almost just shot you."

Ah, so a little of both. I scratched at the back of my neck. "Yeah, I know. Sometimes, I have a hard time figuring out what will make people mad." Savanna had been looking away from me, but when I said the second part, she turned around- I couldn't figure out the face that she was making, but I don't think it was angry. Just kind of tired.

"Isaac… you've got some problems, haven't you?"

I nodded. Not the most elegant way to put it, but she wasn't _wrong._

"Yeah. Father was always real big on the specifics, but I didn't 't ever care enough to ask him about it until he was dead." I thought for a moment. What had he called the disorder I had? I always used to snicker at the name because it sounded like something dirty…

Oh, right. _Aspergers._ Say it out loud, and try to tell me that it doesn't sound like two other familiar words.

"He called it Asperger's, I think. Mild form of autism, and it was connected to something called Apraxia that makes me kind of clumsy."

Savanna looked at me funny. "Clumsy?" I nodded.

"Yeah. Ever noticed how I fall over all the time?" Savanna just squinted for a second, until realization dawned on her. She laughed.

"Oh, _doplich!_ Sorry- My second tribe spoke mostly normal English, but they had some weird words. Instead of saying Clumsy, they'd say, " _Doplich."_ Part of _conserving tradition_ or something," she explained. I nodded.

"Neat-o. Anyways, dad wasn't no psychologist, so he could've been wrong on both counts. Mom's always insisted that it's just my personality, but she's… Mom."

"That's kind of sweet, honestly. My mum wasn't at all like that, she was the kind of person who would have tried to pray it out of me. Well, my adoptive mum, anyways; I can't really remember my first one."

And then there was a comfortable silence, where all I could hear was the crackling fire, the rain on the roof, and the ringing in my ears. To this day, I'm entirely convinced that we were both thinking the exact same thing.

"We both had pretty screwed up childhoods, didn't we?" I asked. Savanna nodded.

"Yeah, let's not get into that tonight. You want to help me make dinner?"

"You have no idea how much I want to do exactly that."

And so we got to work- getting dressed, gathering supplies, cutting vegetables... I still had no idea how to properly cut Tatos, but Savanna always seemed to make do with the mess that I made.

Savanna was cool like that.

-break-

"Alrighty… now, just stand _very_ still while I put this is in. Don't worry, it don't hurt too much." Savanna squirmed uncomfortably as I brought the butterfly needle against the big purplish vein that runs along that really squishy bit where your humerus connects to your radius and ulna. It's called like the, sefalis vein or whatever. Sephalic. Cephalic?

"You know, that doesn't… you're right, that doesn't hurt! Just feels sort of funny. Why is the blood so dark?" Asked Savanna, placing her finger on the clear little pipe that ran out the back of the syringe and into the bag. I moved the butterfly needle a bit. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a couple of my brain cells started wondering why it was called a butterfly needle, cause it don't look nothing like no goddamn butterfly that I'd ever seen...

"I think its cause vein-blood don't have much O2 in it, see? Your body's pumpin it back to your heart, and then through your lungs, so that it can get more of that good stuff."

"Oh, that makes sense. Y'know, actually, a lot of organic stuff changes color when you take oxygen out of it!"

After another twenty seconds of fascinated silence, I clamped the pipe shut and took out the needle. Immediately, I picked up the bit of gauze that I'd been keeping on hand, and pressed it against the wound. Savanna kept looking at the blood bag as I tied the gauze in place around the tiny little wound. "Alright, now that I've got that, we're gonna compare it with the gecko blood… what blood type are you?" I asked, tying off the knot. Savanna shrugged.

"I dunno. Does it matter?

I thought about that. Did it matter?

"I don't think so," I said, lifting up the blood bag and hanging it on one of the nails in the wall. I retrieved the vials of gecko blood, and put them on the table next to our improvised microscope. Savanna tapped me on the shoulder as I rummaged around my medical bag for something to put a drop of blood on.

"Do you think that the sniper scope is going to work up close? I feel kind of like it isn't," she said, glancing doubtfully at the abominable implement on the counter. I laughed and threw my arms in the air.

"I don't know! Don't worry about it!" I kept searching for something to put the blood on, cackling all the way. Savanna started laughing too, which just made me laugh more. It was kind of terrifying, to an outside observer- two _supposed_ adults, laughing madly while surrounded by improvised scientific implements, gecko corpses and blood. Lots and lots of blood.

"Oh man, what are we- what are we even laughing about?" Savanna asked eventually, then started laughing again. I staggered over to the counter, and took another swig of whiskey. The safehouse had a stash alongside a few boxes of chemical reagents, and it seemed like a waste not to drink as much as we could. Hell, I must have downed half-a-dozen full shots worth of the stuff already!

"I don't know. Lemme test the 'scope." I got up on my tippie-toes so that I could see through the lenses, then squinted as my glasses pressed against the rim. All I saw was black blurriness, but I also hadn't put anything under it yet.

"Does it work!?" asked Savanna, leaning over in her chair. I shrugged.

"Dunno. We got a flashlight?" Savanna grinned.

"We have Tandi's rifle!"

It was true. We did have her cool green rifle, which we'd taken the 7x-40x scope off of to make our microscope. There might have been a flashlight on that thing.

"Um, it has got a flashlight on it, but I don't know how to get it off. It's stuck through one of them ring things," I said, playing with the flashlight on the end of the gun. I hit a button, and suddenly it was doing a bright red laser instead. I laughed at that, for some reason. Why'd she have a laser on her gun if it couldn't shoot stuff?

"Ooh, lemme see it! I think I can get it off." Savanna staggered over to the counter, and started messing with one of the bolts on the side. Her hands were perfectly steady- just like mine, I realized. It took me a second to remember why, but then I realized that when we'd mixed alcohol and caffeine and mentants, our hands got sort of jittery. So, we'd agreed to take some Steady from Tandi's stash after I broke my fourth graduated cylinder. There were a bunch of those things, just sort of laying around- the place had a fully stocked drug lab, with a bunch of testing stuff and chemicals that only Savanna seemed to know the name of.

Eventually, Savanna took off the bolt that was holding the flashlight and/or laser thing in place, and held it in her hands.

"Hell yeah!"

I gave her a congratulatory hug, and she hugged me too, did one of them big old bear hugs where she clapped me on the back. Then she took the flashlight and started to painstakingly position it so that it shone right under the improvised microscope, while I went back to searching for something to put the blood on. A slide.

"Aha! I think I've done found us a slide," I grumbled, yanking one of my clear plastic gloves out of the bag. Never-mind that I could've used a plastic-bag to the same effect, I was drunk and it vaguely reminded me of the prepared glass slides, because it was clear or something. Therefore, it was a sound choice.

"Oh, it's perfect! Quick, get some of the gecko blood on there before it dries," whispered Savanna, looking around the shed like something was going to attack us. I chuckled to myself.

"Oh, it ain't gonna dry- if it's really anything like our blood, it'll stay nice and _hwet,_ cuzza the… christ, what'd I put in it? We scraped it off a wipe, I think…" I explained, gently tipping over a vial of gecko blood. I think I tipped it a little bit too much, because it splattered all over the glove and the table. But, that was okay, I could just use a new glove for Savanna's blood. I had lots of gloves.

"It was anticoagulant, and also I _hated_ that. Why did you say… why'd you say, "wet" like that?"

I thought for a second- how had I said it? I think I'd done the weird 'W' thing with my throat. I said it again really quietly, just to test it. Immediately, Savanna shrank back, and I started grinning like a madman.

"Oh, you mean like, _Hweeeettttttt_?" I asked, licking my lips for effect. Savanna giggled.

" _Hywett. Hyet. HHhhhhweettt_. Oh, I did it! _Hwet_! How's it sound for other words?"

"You mean how's it sound for other… _Hwords_ ," I said slyly, drawing up a disgusting amount of spit in my throat. Savanna burst out laughing.

"Where did you even get that? Like, I can't think of one English word, ever, that has that sound! Do you know any words that have that sound?" She asked. I shook my head.

"Nah, iss' just a fun sound to make! Sounds' kinda Russian, right?"

"No, no, that's "Nyet!" You're thinking of," replied Savanna, wagging her finger. I waved her off.

"No, not that one word- just, sayin' stuff with a buncha spit in your throat, in general. Like how Tandi does when she's saying swears…"

At this point, I wasn't focused on her anymore, just the microscope. I couldn't stop fixating on the thing- Savanna had done a good job rigging the flashlight. A _really_ good job.

"Oh, you mean, like, " _SCHAS PO EBALU POLUCHISH, SUKA, BLYAD_!" cried Savanna, suddenly doubling over and shouting at the top of her lungs. I grabbed her arm.

"ShhhHHHhh! Don't wake her up like that, you'll give her _war memories!_ " I whispered, nodding conspiratorially. Savanna suddenly got really quiet.

"Oh, right. My bad!" She started walking towards the microscope but she tripped on something. I tried to pull her back up, but she was heavy and I was a teensy bit unstable, so we both went tumbling over in a predictable, preventable disaster that neither of us was sober enough to stop. We spent a good twenty seconds dying of sourceless laughter before either of us managed to haul ourselves up.

"Alright, alright! I'm, I'm gonna check the microscope now. See if it works." I staggered over to the counter, and leaned against it so I wouldn't fall over again. Soon, Savanna was next to me, peering over my shoulder. I stared into the microscope.

"Are you seeing anything?" She asked. I shook my head.

"Jus' blurry red. Lemme try and focus it." I tried to focus it, and nothing happened. Every level of magnification looked equally shitty at that distance.

"Is it working?"

"Naw."

"Aw, Lemme see it!" Savanna pushed me aside and gazed into the scope. The disappointment on her face was palpable. "Gosh, that is _really_ bad! The lenses are prob- probly the wrong focal length or something. Something like that." We sat in mournful silence for a moment. All of that work, all of that blood, all of that _science_ … for naught.

It didn't last long.

"Well, that was great! Do you know what time it is?" I asked. Savanna made a one-second motion, and checked my pip boy with wide-open eyes. They were very nice eyes, I decided- so brown that they were almost black, and open really wide most of the time. At least, I think they were. Her eyes were sorta naturally thin, so I might've thought that she was squinting all the time if I didn't know any better.

Anyways, her eyes didn't creep me out like most people's did. I liked looking at her eyes. They weren't so confusing, you know?

"Its… 2 o'clock. A little after. More like 3 o'clock," she said. She turned off the pip boy.

"Alright. We should go to bed- wanna do a sleepover again?" I asked, sauntering over to my sleeping bag. I almost laid down right there, then remembered that I'd left the flashlight on. I stumbled to go turn that off.

"I, I um… I'm sorry, but I don't think so. I think I want to sleep alone tonight."

_What, really_? I wanted to ask, but I wasn't going to press it. People ought to make their own choices about where they sleep.

"Okay! You want the, uh, the house, or the tent? You want the house?" I asked. Savanna clasped her hands together. Suddenly, she looked really serious.

"Tent. You can keep the house."

Well, that was nice of her, I guessed! The house was cozy and warm. I wished it could have her in it, but I'd survive.

"Okay. G'night, Savanna! You're a real good buddy," I said, though I probably only got about half of the words out right. Savanna walked out the door really quickly, and suddenly I wondered if maybe I had done something wrong.

"Yeah. Good night."

Then she shut the door, and turned the ceiling light off. I sighed. Now I was worried- had I said something mean? If I weren't so drunk, and the mentats weren't rapidly wearing off, the question might've even kept me awake that night.

Of course, the mentats actually were wearing off, and I was really quite sloshed, so I drifted off in a few minutes. Or hours. I couldn't remember, exactly. Just that I woke up late with an awful headache and a sense of deja-vu that I didn't usually get.

[+]


	13. The Dia-Tribe

(+)13

2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

11302 BYTES FREE

HOLLOWTAPE LOADED: "THE-DIA-TRIBE"

INITIALISING…

SUCCESS!

**STATUS**

Battery Level: 99%

Wireless Signal: (?)

Operating Temperature: 92F

**HEALTH**

BP: 120/90

SPO2: 100%

Temp: 98.5F

RR: 12

HR: 70

**TIME**

Day: 29 SEP. 2279

Time: 12:24

**CLIMATE**

Current Temperature: 73F

Atmospheric Pressure: 761 mmHG

Background Radiation: 0.243 RAD

* * *

As prophesied the night before, I woke up with an awful, pounding headache that permeated all of my senses; In fact, I was pretty sure that I could _taste_ the pain. Or, maybe that was just backwash from all of the whiskey that I'd downed the night before. I'd probably be able to smell it, too, if I could smell. But, as I was rapidly coming to theorize, my sense of smell had probably been ruined after a large piece of glass bisected the bridge of my nose.

Actually, I was kind of glad that I couldn't smell. Last night's experiments had left the room covered in little splashes of blood, and there was at least one headless gecko corpse in the corner of the room. The bugs hadn't gotten to it yet, but it probably still would have smelled foul. When the stomach acids of a dead animal start eating away at their innards, lots of interesting smells are produced.

"God, what time is it?" I muttered, rolling over on my side and squinting at Savanna's sleeping bag- which was, of course, absent.

Immediately, the memories of the night before came flooding back in vivid detail. Mentats had that affect- all of the memories that you make while you're high on the things are _incredibly_ sharp. Because of the other substances that I had mixed the Mentats with, however, this had the unfortunate side-effect of showing me a high-definition playback of all the dumb shit that I did and said while I was drunk, through the chilling lens of sobriety.

Hellish, right?

"I ain't never, ever, getting drunk again," I murmured to myself, sitting up and cracking my spine over my arm. Supposedly, that's not a healthy thing to do, but I _had_ just slept on the floor. If I didn't pay such close attention to my posture, I'd probably be immobilized with pain from all of the floor-sleeping I'd been doing lately.

After that, I went about my morning routine much as I usually would. I hadn't taken any of my clothes off before I went to sleep the previous night, and I couldn't button my coat up if I wanted to seeing as how Ollie had ripped all the buttons off. There was a cracked mirror hanging up in front of the drug lab, and since I hadn't groomed myself in the past few days, I decided to take a look.

I wish I hadn't. I looked like I'd dragged my face through a rosebush. A couple of deep, red cuts, and lots of little scratches all over my face.

But that wasn't the worst part. My hair, which I usually kept styled in that nice way that actors from the 1950s had theirs, with the little swoosh in front, was just a terrible straw-colored mess. I'd subconsciously been keeping it out of my face, thankfully, but it was still just a spiky, frizzy mess starting around my eyebrows.

This was easy enough to fix. I didn't have the time to properly style it, but it had never looked bad slicked back. Of course, combined with the dark circles under my eyes, and the "I-can't-grow-a-beard-but-haven't shaved-in-five-days" look, I still wouldn't be looking too purdy. There wasn't much I could do about the cuts or the dark circles short of painting them over, but I could definitely shave off the gross scruff that was gathering on my neck and chin.

So, I got to work on that- the shelter didn't have a working sink, necessarily, but it did have one of those cool pre-war drinking fountains. I splashed and shaved under my chin, then took off the stuff that was gathering on my throat. I thought about scraping away the five-day shadow, too, but it really didn't look too bad. It covered up the acne on the lower half of my face, and made me look older- If I was being entirely honest with myself, it kind of reminded me of my father. He'd had a much fuller, more well-groomed beard, but it was a start. Maybe if I could live up to his legendary facial hair, I could live up to him.

Then I went on to the hair. I didn't have a comb, but I did spot a fork lying on the drug lab from the night before, so I used that to get out the tangles and the dried blood. I had a lot of blood on me, come to think of it- I'd been keeping my skin washed whenever I got water from a pump, but my clothes were grimy. My coat in particular looked like one of those horror-movie props, with all the layers-and-layers of bright and dark blood that were spattered over it. Some of it looked almost brownish, some of it was black, and a tiny bit was still vaguely crimson. I was hesitant to use any of my hydrogen-peroxide for something so trivial as having a pretty coat- But, in fairness, it was getting _pretty_ damn nasty. Plus, it reminded me of what had happened to Ollie and Volker, a reality which I'd been avoiding since the moment it happened.

_And, now I was thinking about it_. I needed something to distract me from the thought, something that occupied my mind more than grooming. I didn't have any games on my pip-boy, and I (still) couldn't read past a kindergarten level, but I did have one thing that I hadn't used in a while…

_A radio._

When I was younger, I could only ever stand to listen to classical music, because it was formulaic and predictable. There are no surprises or uncertainties in classical music, just a mathematically-sound structure composed of lots of pleasing noises. Almost all classical music followed a set of rules that I could understand and discern, with few exceptions.

But, let's face it; that shit's kinda boring _._ Like, if I'm stemming the bleeding on some injured guy while a ranger with a machine gun lays down suppressive fire on my position, I don't want some stuffy Beethoven tune playing in the background- I want something that captures a feeling, makes you want to _dance!_

I clicked to the seventies channel.

' _Do you remember… the Twenty first night, of September_?' asked the song, behind some trumpets and drums. I grinned.

"My thoughts are with you… holding hands with your… something! I see you, oh, uh, shit, how's it go?" I listened intently and hummed along as I tried to find a place where I knew all the words and could pick back up. The song was almost over, though, and no such place presented itself until I'd gotten to the part where he just goes, "ba-da-da, da da da," over and over. I decided to be content with humming and snapping along _(but not actually snapping, because who the hell actually knows how to snap their fingers_ ) to the beat, until the song finally tapered off and "Disco Inferno" started.

Satisfied with my choice of music, I continued combing out my hair with a tarnished, silver fork.

"I heard this song was supposed to be in a movie- apparently, they mixed it wrong, and that's why it sounds so good," said Gram, his loud, New-Yorkian voice booming from behind me. I whipped around to see him leaning in the doorway, holding the door open with one finger. Grinning like he always was. "Of course, I don't know how true that is, but it sounds credible to me. How you holdin' up, buddy?"

"I'm… better," I admitted, tilting my head back and straining the water out of my hair. Immediately, my damaged sinuses clogged up. A bit of lukewarm water dribbled down my neck. "I had a good time with Sav- er, Cook. We tried to compare human and gecko blood, on account of them looking and tasting similar, but Tandi's rifle scope didn't make a very good microscope. Actually, now that I mention it, I should probably give that back…"

"I'll sneak it into the wagon before we leave. Tandi's still snoozing," said Gram, nodding towards the door. It wasn't raining no more, which made me feel a little bit happier.

"Yeah, that'll work. Is she, like, _alright_?" Gram made a little waving motion with his hand.

"She'll get over it. She was just being a crybaby back at the bar- not used to getting hurt, least not anymore." I must not have looked convinced, because he put a hand on my shoulder and tried to look me in the eyes with his black, pupil-less orbs. I stared up at the ceiling. "And besides, that crazy old bitch had it coming. I'm sorry that I couldn't stop her from shooting those two guys back there- Volker and…"

"Ollie, and don't make me think about it. I don't wanna hate her."

Gram sighed, and put a couple of fingers on his forehead; sort of like that thing that I always did with my temples. I don't know why he was stressed; It's not like I was mad at him. True, he'd shot someone, but he'd been acting in self-defense. Ain't what I'd have done, but people gotta make their own choices.

"Right. Now, listen, I'm sure Cook's told you all about it by now, but I still feel like I gotta stress this: Those were **legion** guys, and Tandi does _not_ like the Legion very much. I'm not at liberty to tell you exactly what they did to her, but it was bad; probably worse than anything I could think up, and I'm _very_ creative," he said, indicating just how creative he was with his outstretched arms. I shrugged.

"Doesn't make it okay."

"I ain't saying that it does. Just that it makes it _understandable._ None of us were having our finest moments back there, either, so don't get me started on how she "had a choice," and all that shit. I don't get the feeling that you like hurting people, but that didn't stop you from snapping a lady's arm in half!"

"I didn't, "Snap it in half," I dislocated it at the shoulder," I said, only I said it quietly because I knew that it was a stupid thing to say. It didn't absolve me of the crime; I'd given in to the urge to hurt, despite the oath I swore all those years back.

"I'm not in the business of semantics, Isaac. Tandi shoots a guy who you wanna help, you snap her fucking arm. Seems like a fair exchange me," said Gram. When I didn't reply, he gave me a wide-shrug, and looked at me as if to ask, " _Whadda'ya gonna do about it?"_ in that stupid New-York gangster voice. Or was it a boat-person voice? Gangster boat-person? Gram's past was confusing and stupid.

On the radio, the song ended, and a new one came on. I still don't know the name, but I'll bet it was called "Survive," or, "I will Survive," or something like that, on account of them saying that a bunch. That new song played for about twenty seconds, before Gram finally decided that he was done waiting for me to say something.

"Alright, I'll leave you alone- clearly, I ain't swaying you any. But, before I do, I feel like I should tell you something that I've noticed," He said. I took a deep breath.

"...What?"

"You and Tandi… Well, I don't know if you realize it, but you ain't so different. Once you get past the whole killing thing, I mean."

"Elaborate," I said, immediately. Gram did a smug grin.

"You're both naive extremists. You're a self-destructive anarchist, Tandi's a self-destructive nationalist for whoever's in control of her life at the moment. Which leads me to my next comparison, which is that you both hate yourselves an unhealthy amount." I clasped my hands together until they turned white. I did _not_ hate myself- I just knew my limits! Clearly, he realized he'd hit a nerve, because his smile got even bigger as he continued. "…And then, there's your idiot bravado. Sure, you freak out sometimes, cause you ain't seasoned like Tandi. But, when you ain't freaking out, you get up to some ballsy shit _."_

"Gram, where are you going with this?" He dropped the smile. Somehow, his pitch-black eyes seemed to grow darker.

"'Where I'm going with this is that you've got one real big thing in common, and it trumps all the other stuff: _you're both working for me._ And if I don't see some big attitude improvements from both of you, we're gonna have some contractual problems."

He let that sink in for a moment, and then turned his back to me and walked up to the door. Before he walked out, he took off his plaid hat and looked at me over his shoulder. He was smiling again.

"I'll see you outside in ten minutes. Soon as you come out, you're gonna give Tandi a big hug and tell her that you're sorry for snapping her arm." He put his hat back on and walked through the doorway. "Ciao!"

I stood alone for a moment.

… _ **Oh now, go- just walk out the door!**_

_**Turn around now, cause you ain't welcome anymore...** _

I turned off the radio.

"Hmm," I said, because I wasn't sure how I was feeling.

I went over the conversation over and over in my head, trying to figure out what all I'd missed- the little stuff, like his posturing and tone and the funny words that he'd decided to use. I went over everything, and all I got was one big, mysterious blank, because I couldn't understand Gram. Nothing that he'd told me scanned normally- so many possible double meanings and veiled threats... I felt attacked, and hurt, and kind of scared, but I couldn't really tell you why if I wanted to.

' _Hmm' indeed._

-Break-

"Thank-you-very-much!" snapped Tandi, grabbing the rifle out of my hands and scooping up the flashlight. Immediately, she got to work screwing it back in. I sat and watched like a guilty toddler, soaking in the dull, cloudy sunlight on my neck and waiting for someone to say something. _So much for sneaking it into the cart._

"…Yeah. Um, sorry about dislocating your arm. Looks like you already fixed it?" I asked, eventually. She nodded.

"Mm. Gram told me to play nice with you. What do you think of that?"

"I think we should stay far away from each other," I said. Tandi nodded again.

"Smart. Guess it'd be too much to ask you to stay away from my spotter too?"

"Oh, definitely! Unless you also want to make some big concession- like, say, doing this without killing any more folks?"

"Sawed-Off limit, sawbones."

"Great. I'm glad we understand each other." I extended one hand. "We good?"

"Not really," said Tandi. She slung her rifle over her shoulder and walked away. I sat there with my hand outstretched for a few more seconds before I realized that she wasn't going to shake it.

_Well, no one could say I didn't try._

"You can come out now, Savanna," I said, nodding to my left, where Savanna had been hiding for a while now. I couldn't see her face well, but I was pretty sure that she looked surprised.

"How'd you know I was watching?" I shrugged. She wasn't very good at hiding, but that would be a mean thing to say.

"You were making a lot of noise," I said instead. That was nicer than telling her that she was _noisy,_ or so I inferred from an old trick that Mom had taught me: instead of calling people something bad, tell them that what they're _doing_ wrong. Like, if I want to politely tell someone that they're an idiot, I could tell them that they, "Did something stupid," or, "Made a bad choice." Or, if I really wanted to lay it on them, I could say that they're "being an idiot," which at least implies that they aren't _always_ an idiot.

"Oh, you must be really fun to play Hide-and-Seek with. I'll bet you were the kind of kid who used thermal goggles when you were a seeker."

"No, but I do have a bad habit of flipping the table after a bad game of checkers," I admitted, which made Savanna laugh. My heart always got really warm whenever she laughed, and this time was no exception.

"Oh, word? Didn't know you were a sore loser too." I shrugged.

"Who knows? I only remember doing it because mom told the story every time that we had guests over." I was quiet for a moment. The calm autumn wind blew at my coat and chilled my warm skin. "I'm sorry about last night."

Savanna laughed again, but it wasn't a nice laugh; It was the kind that people do when they're feeling uncomfortable.

"What? No, that's not how this was going to go- see, I was going to say sorry to _you,"_ said Savanna, pointing at me with her index finger like I'd forgotten who " _you_ " was. I cocked my head.

"Why? I mean, I don't know exactly what I did wrong last night, but I must've done something-"

"Trust me Isaac, you didn't do anything wrong," interrupted Savanna. I ignored her.

"-Because, if I _hadn't done_ something weird, you wouldn't have walked out of the room like that! You don't gotta pretend that I didn't."

"Isaac, I'm not kidding- you're fine. I had a really nice time last night." She put her hand on my shoulder. "That's the problem."

"What do you mean?" I asked. She turned me around, guided me down the road with her.

"Come on, walk with me- It's kind of a long story..."

And so I walked with her, grabbing my medical bag from in front of the shelter when we passed by it. We were heading towards the cart, apparently, the same way that Tandi had gone. She wasn't talking, at first, but as the cart came into view, I guess she finally worked out what she was going to say. She took a long, deliberate drink from her canteen, wiped her mouth, and did a big old sigh. I waited patiently by.

"Gosh, alright, so, let's start at the beginning: When I was a kid, I was part of a nomadic, rice-growing tribe. We had little celebrations every harvest, and worked like dogs the rest of the time. Once every six harvests, we'd have a really big celebration, right? And then pack up and move somewhere else. We had a lot of stuff- weapons, food, tents, bedrolls, you name it, and every time that we moved, we had to move it all with us. And, since we were a merchant tribe, we pretty much had to keep perfect track of every single item, every bottle cap, every paper dollar… As I'm sure you can imagine, it was a total logistical nightmare. So, they trained one person in each new generation the art of accounting. At any given time, they'd have two fully trained accountants, and one in training. When I was four years old, the newest girl in training died of leukemia. They took me to replace her."

We were walking downhill now, towards the cracked back road that led through the valley which we'd been perched atop. If I turned around, I would've seen the Yangtze memorial disappearing over the horizon. "They called us, 'Number Girls,' because that was all we did. All of my earliest memories involve counting, or learning to count. By the time that I was ten years old, I could run stats in my head, and solve complex calculus problems with a pencil on paper. I had a good sense of space, too, and I rarely had to do much individual counting when I looked at a room full of stuff. Dimensional analysis isn't that hard once you can do it in your head, and I hadn't had to use a calculator since I was _eight_."

Near the bottom of the hill, things suddenly got very steep and rocky. Savanna started helping me down, taking my hand and guiding me through the footholds and crevices. "Accounting was my life- my mentors, they were my best friends. We spent like every day together, going over the day's deals, double-checking supply counts to make sure that no one had stolen anything. It wasn't as exciting or involved as the work that the farmers or hunters did, but Mian and Chou made it bearable. Mian was the fun one, but she wasn't as nice as Chou. Actually, I think that Chou knew me better than my own mom, since mom was always too busy tending to the crops to visit me."

"That kinda stuff made me sad. But, I was a happy kid- I had friends who loved me, and everyone was proud of how good I was at my job. Our tribe made sure to take time to appreciate every worker during the celebrations, and our chief usually made a special mention for me."

We reached the bottom of the hill. The cart wasn't far away now, so we stopped to catch our breath. Savanna offered me a drink from her canteen, and I took it. Eventually, she continued. "So, one day, just before my eleventh birthday, we had just had our sixth-harvest celebration, and were getting ready to pack up. I was in the little accounting tent with Mian and Chou, running numbers and making sure that everything had been counted. Then, suddenly, I started hearing fireworks going off outside, which I thought was strange because we usually didn't do fireworks until it was darker. Of course, they weren't fireworks, and soon people started screaming and the gunshots got closer and louder. Mian, Chou and I just huddled in the tent, too scared to try to figure out what was happening. At some point, Chou grabbed a gun from one of the supply boxes. I asked what it was for, and she said that it was for us. I thought she was being a little dramatic- surely, our guards would stop the invaders. Our drunk, drunk guards…" She stared at her feet. I sat in complete silence while I waited for her to continue.

"Then we heard footsteps, and one of them came bursting into the tent with a machine gun. Chou and Mian threw themselves in front of me and started shouting at the raider, until she got tired of their shouting and opened fire. At the end of it, both of them and the raider were laying on the ground, bleeding in so many places… I was the only one who hadn't been shot."

"When the dust settled, I was the only one in the whole tribe who survived- and over the next few months, I found that every person had been replaced by a stinking corpse. Mom, dad, Chou and Mian… They stole or burned everything else, but the bodies sat there forever. I wasn't strong enough to bury anyone, so I just had to watch them rot. I tried to cover the people who I had cared about, but the sheets kept blowing away or getting ripped up by the animals that came at night. That was the worst period of my entire life."

"Eventually, some warriors from a little Puritan tribe nearby ventured into the ruins, and found me sitting alone. Naked, skeleton thin, and gnawing on something disgusting. They were just going to euthanize me on the spot, but then one of the people in the group- Saul, the chemist, the only person in the whole tribe who didn't have their pink skin, volunteered to take me in. He'd been an adoptee, too, so I guess he pitied me. The rest of the tribe already thought that he was completely insane, so they didn't stop him. They got me some clothes, fed me a warm meal, made me look like a human again… I don't remember much from that time, just that I felt hated and alone. Everyone except for Saul looked at me like I was some sort of animal, and it probably didn't help that I couldn't understand them or speak their language well yet."

We'd started walking again, but we were intentionally going very slowly, so that she could finish her story. Plus, Gram and Tandi looked like they were having some sort of argument up at the cart, and neither of us wanted in on that.

"So, I was with them for a while. I learned how to speak English and read books from Saul, who became kind of like a new dad. I'd say his wife was like my mom, but she wasn't- she _hated_ me, and when she wasn't berating me about whatever useless skill or word I didn't know, she just stayed away from me. I called her, 'mum,' because she wouldn't let me call her by her name and I didn't want to call her Mom."

"Saul and his son Amos were the only people in the tribe who would be seen with me, and even they were always sort of distant. So, I spent most of my time in Saul's lab, making food for the tribe and learning chemistry. There was this book, "The Science of Good Cooking," that I read from a lot. Saul and his books kept me sane."

"Then, one day, Saul and his whole hunting party disappeared. As grateful as I was to the tribe for taking me in, I was getting really tired of them at this point. Their… _medieval_ mindset towards technology and outsiders made them hard to live with. Without Saul, I didn't see any reason to stay any longer. I left with the next caravan, sold myself as a skilled cook, because Gram said he didn't need an accountant or a chemist. It's been four years since then and I haven't looked back since."

She was silent for a little while longer. While we were talking, I'd put on my comtacs, because the wind-tunnel that the valley created was becoming painfully loud. Even with the damn things on, it was still all I could focus on, when she wasn't talking. My coat blew wildly in the wind.

"We're going to be stopping by that tribe today. Gram told me about the change of plans yesterday, so I was already upset. All of these old memories were coming up again, when I'd worked so hard to keep them away." She looked at me, and I didn't look away. I couldn't parse her expression, and yet for once, I knew exactly how she was feeling.

"So, I spent some time with you, because I needed something to distract me, and you'd been nice to me. And, while we were doing all that weird science stuff, and drinking and laughing and bumping into stuff together, I remembered what it was like to have friends again. Now's not a great time to remember that, because it got me thinking about what happened to my old friends. Saul, Feng, Mochou…" She sighed. "If I hadn't drank so much, I would have stayed, but I was scared that I was going to start crying or say something stupid, and I didn't want to do that in front of you. I didn't even want to think about that. So I just walked out the door. I'm really sorry."

She looked down at her feet again. The cart was just in front of us now, and Gram and Tandi were looking at us. If I wanted to say anything, I'd have to say it quick. I clasped my hands together.

"Have you- aren't Gram and Tandi your friends?" I asked hopelessly. Savanna shrugged.

"Not really. I'm just one of Gram's employees, and Tandi is… Tandi." She looked up at me again. "You made me laugh last night- like, _actually_ laugh! Sure, I laugh when the others say stuff, because it's polite, but you _made me_ laugh."

"Well, I've never really had friends who weren't related to me. So, I don't really have these conversations often. Being honest, this is a first for me…" I trailed off. _She's kind of pretty,_ I noticed, and I sort of wanted to tell her about that, but I didn't foresee that ending well, considering the subject matter. I decided to go the way I'd started. "… But, I'm glad that I made you happier. And I'm sorry that I made you remember the bad-old-days. You're- um, you're an awful good friend. If you ever want to talk about stuff like this when we've got more time, you should. Because, I wouldn't stop you. Not that I _could,_ stop you, but, you know. You _know."_

We were definitely within earshot now, so my verbal floundering was on display to all three of the people currently in my life, as well as two of the Brahmin. If I wanted to salvage this, I would need to do this fast. I wasn't trained for this sort of thing, but maybe-

"Can I hug you?" Asked Savanna. I let out a deep breath that I'd been holding.

"Please do." Immediately, she stepped forward, and pulled me forwards into a quick, tight, hug- the kind where we rested our heads on each other's shoulders, and smelled the soap the other person had washed with or the perfume that they were wearing. I don't know if it was perfume, but Savanna had a very lovely, very distinctive smell, and while my nose wasn't working very well, I definitely smelled it then. It was a refreshing change from all of the bad smells that I'd been exposed to lately.

"What were y'all talking about back there?" asked Tandi, once we had released each other and loaded our stuff onto the back of the cart. Savanna and I exchanged a look.

"Nothing," said Savanna. I nodded in agreement.

"Yeah. Just some talk about the weather, and stuff." I tried to smile. "Did you know that it's probably going to stay this cool all day, because of the cloud coverage?"

"I couldn't give a shit if I tried. You didn't leave nothing behind, right?"

"Not in my life," I said. Tandi nodded.

"Good, cause we're leaving- Gram says we're going to make it to that tax-evading village tonight, and I don't want to make Gram a liar."

So, we spurred the Brahmin, fell into our positions, and spent the evening marching through the valley pass. Tandi was walking again, which I should've expected- she was a veteran ranger, after all. More surprisingly, Savanna had stopped sitting on top of the cart, and was walking with the rest of us. Despite how tired it made her, she seemed perfectly alright with walking beside me, and pointing out to me all of the cool rocks and landmarks that marked the way to the village. At one point, she showed me a rotting wooden sign with a bunch of metal pots and pans hanging off; 'Teakettle Junction,' she called it. I don't know why she decided to keep walking with me, but she did, and I was happy. She was pretty much all I'd been thinking about lately, and it felt nice to be with her.

' _Enjoy it while it lasts,'_ I thought, because, evidently, God had a big old hate-on for me, and anyone else unfortunate enough to be caught in my considerable area-of-effect. Nothing horrible had happened in almost twenty four hours, and I was at peace with the fact that this was, contrary to common logic, actually _not_ a good sign. At this point, I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop, so I could acquire my latest cocktail story, and maybe a neat scar somewhere. I was actually starting to fantasize about my eventual memoir at this point, and all of the great sob-stories I'd have for it!

That's probably not a very healthy way of thinking about stuff, but it was my new default. I didn't have no time to properly decompress, so I had some fun, and forced the bad memories somewhere deep and dark. I'm not sure if I was properly desensitized, or just coping in the short term; maybe I was so completely shocked and overloaded that I couldn't even process it at all. But, whatever my head was doing during that time, it was helping me stay upright, and I didn't know enough psychology to think about trying to stop it.

_Years of Therapy, here I come!_

[+]


	14. The Spiny Bone Snake

(+)14

2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

9131 BYTES FREE

HOLLOW TAPE LOADED: "THE-SPINY-BONE-SNAKE"

INITIALISING…

SUCCESS!

**STATUS**

Battery Level: 99%

Wireless Signal: (?)

Operating Temperature: 92F

**HEALTH**

BP: 120/90

SPO2: 98%

Temp: 98.5F

RR: 12

HR: 90

**TIME**

Day: 29 SEP. 2279

Time: 18:24

**CLIMATE**

Current Temperature: 85F

Atmospheric Pressure: 762 mmHG

* * *

It was late in the afternoon, and the sun was beating down on our backs. We had just exited the valley pass, and were currently going up the most painful uphill-road we'd done so far. Both me and Savanna had ended up taking turns riding on top of the cart after a while, because it had actually gotten really hot since we left. We drank up most of our water supply just to stay cool, but I still felt about as dry as a sack of flour.

"Are you sure that we have to stop in the village? Like, I know we need supplies and stuff, but can't we just go somewhere else?" Asked Savanna, holding on to the side of the cart for support. Gram turned around, and smiled all big and wide. His eyes were open too wide for someone who was facing the sun.

"What, you think I'm stopping there for the supplies? I really just wanna see that park one more time before I retire- reminds me of the old world." He closed his eyes for a moment, and sighed dramatically. "I can almost picture it- the green leaves, the rolling blue waterfall, the red rock hills…"

"And the vault with the " **Don't Enter, The Plants Kill** " sign in front of it," said Tandi. Gram glared at her.

"Oh, Thanks for ruining my train of thought, jackass." Tandi turned up her helmet.

"I ain't sorry. That shit looks like a death-trap to me."

"Well then we just won't go in the vault! Can't you indulge an old man with his little joys?"

"No- Whatever is in there ain't natural, and you know it!"

"Oh, well, neither am I!" groused Gram. Tandi crossed her arms at him. "Please, just lemme have _this._ You can even watch me with your rifle if you want- pop off at the first sign of movement, I don't give a damn! I just want to go there one more time before I settle down." He paused. Tandi hadn't budged. "Remember Kiev?"

Tandi sighed through her helmet. A strange, alien crackling noise came out.

"That is a low blow." She replied. She gestured to the armored space between her legs. "Right in the dick." Gram opened his hands expectantly.

"…And?"

" _And_ , I don't want you to do stupid things like I did! But I will let you; I'm just telling you that you're a moron and this is a stupid idea."

"Fine by me. When you make it to my age, you get to be alright with a little bit of stupid."

The first watchtowers of the village were appearing around the bend, sturdy little buildings made of Joshua logs and uneven stones of various colors. The two towers were connected with a spiked log wall that effectively gated off the circular village area, which was already flanked on three sides by steep gray cliffs. The towers were empty, I noticed, and there only seemed to be one man standing guard. I couldn't see very well from this distance, but he was fiddling with some sort of weapon.

"Do you know that guard up there?" I asked, tapping Savanna on the shoulder and pointing at the guy who stood in front of the gate. She sighed.

"Yeah, I do. That's John. He's a good guy, but they really need to stop putting him on guard duty- if someone started shooting at him, I'm pretty sure that he would _actually_ piss himself."

We kept moving in silence, until we were in shouting range of the open gates. I could see into the village now, and I have to admit, it was kind of charming; lots of little leather-and-hide tents, a big town hall with surprisingly ornate features, carved from various types of wood. And, in the center of it all, a _massive_ pyre, where a few stray people were drinking and talking. Everyone was dressed in these quaint farmer-looking clothes, in lots of dull colors ranging from maroon to sky blue. All the men had beards, and all the girls wore these funny-looking white bonnet things.

"Hail, travelers! Step up to the gates, quickly now- there are raiders and cazadors abound out there!"

No one looked particularly concerned by that, but we still picked up our speed a little. Savanna and I walked ahead, while Gram, Tandi, and the cart trailed behind us. As we got closer, I was starting to be able to make out John's bearded features, and I realized that he was smiling- no, _beaming,_ at Savanna. Even though he was holding a rifle, I didn't get the impression that John was very dangerous.

"Savanna, you return to us at last! How was your mission? And who is _this_?" He asked, holding his rifle with one hand and indicating me with the other. Savanna poked me in the arm.

"Well, things have been crazy since I left, but I'm happy. Oh, and, this is Isaac; he's a friend of mine from the caravan," she said, nodding back at the cart. John looked us both over, then gave me a conspiratorial wink.

" _Friend_ of yours, eh? Well, he's a bit small and un-bearded for a husband, but I'm sure he makes up for it somehow _,"_ said John, stepping forward and patting me on the shoulder. Savanna groaned.

"John, I told you before- I'm not planning on settling down again!" For some reason, John didn't stop smiling.

"Well, that's alright- to each his own, I always say. But, there's a few people in this village who still wonder about you, and I think it would be nice if you said hello to them after all this time. A lot of them probably think that you're dead by now!" he replied, motioning towards the village beyond the open gates. Savanna nodded.

"Yeah, it's definitely been a while. How's Amos doing?" she asked. John, who had been beaming like a long-lost relative at a family reunion, stopped smiling immediately. He looked at me, then back at Savanna. It weren't a good look.

"Oh. It's, ah, It's funny you ask now. Amos been shot a couple of days back, so he was."

"What!? Oh my god- is he alright? Who shot him?" Asked Savanna. Her eyes darted around the camp as though she was looking for a culprit. John started fidgeting with his rifle, sliding the bolt in and out. By the time he spoke again, he had kicked all of his bullets out, and was just sliding the bolt back and forth in an empty rifle. This fact didn't seem to concern him.

"Well, he is alive. Sort of."

"Sort of?" I asked. John continued to look uncomfortable.

"He ain't moved much since he been shot. I heard they been feeding him through some sort of _tube_ ," he explained. I grimaced

"Well, that's gonna be an injury to the spine, probably. I hate those things a lot," I said. John looked confused as I mentally recalled my last experience with one of the ridged menaces. _Poor, poor Tyrone._

"The… What?" he asked. I pointed at my back.

"The spiky-bone-snake that runs from your butt up to your neck. It's kinda important if you want to stay alive, on account of it letting you move all your limbs and stuff," I said. I ran a finger along my own spiky-bone-snake, and John seemed to understand that.

"Oh," he said. He scratched at his bone-snake with one hand, and limply clutched his empty wooden rifle with the other. Savanna looked at me pleadingly.

"Isaac, I know that you don't like spine stuff, but…"

"I'll see what I can do," I said. And I meant it, but the words still tasted like battery acid in my mouth. " _See what I can do-" what kind of promise is that?_

"Be you careful. His mum is watching him like a hawk. I ain't sure she'll let you near him," John warned. Savanna set her jaw.

"Oh, I'll deal with _her._ Where are they?"

"In the medicine tent by the campfire," he replied, gesturing towards one of the brown blobs that sat in the huge clearing. Savanna grabbed me by the arm and started stalking forwards. My heart leapt up into my chest.

"Savanna, are you sure we shouldn't, like, sit down first? His condition sounds pretty stable, and-"

"Isaac," said Savanna. She tightened her grip on my wrist. "Amos is my brother. He wasn't always close to me, but I love him, and I trust you enough that I want you to help him. Do I have to explain to you why I need you to do this?"

_Yes,_ I wanted to say, because, truth be told, I wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of _any_ sort of surgery; Spinal surgery was so far outside of my usual practice that I might as well just shoot him and hope for a similar result.

But, she was looking at me with those big, hopeful eyes, and she'd implied that she thought I was a good doctor, which made me oddly proud. I mean, she wasn't entirely wrong- after all, I had done some pretty crazy stuff in the past few days. I'd sealed a severed femoral artery with a hemostat, some fishing line and a hook. That was pretty cool, right? And then there was the Deathclaw attack, where I'd managed to set up a makeshift hospital and save two critical patients.

In just a few seconds, the moral implications and worries that had been clouding my mind faded away, and were gradually replaced by clouded visions of the few things I'd managed to get right in the last few days. Like that one time where I'd heroically sliced Tandi open with a steak knife! Not my cleanest work, but I had been racing-the-reaper with a rusty tricycle on that one, so I couldn't _really_ be held accountable for the mistakes, or the entirely avoidable trauma I caused...

I was grinning now. "Oh, of course I get it! I was just gonna say that I should really grab some stuff before I start cuttin' up this brother of yours. I'd hate to be responsible for _another_ broken spine!" Savanna's jaw went slack.

"...Oh. Oh! Um, okay. I'll… I'll just, wait outside the tent for you, then." She was staring at me with this look that I couldn't parse. That sort of thing would normally worry me, but I was way too busy savoring this rare ego trip to notice or care. _She said that she trusted me! Ain't that a glowing endorsement?_

Savanna was really good at that; she just had this inexplicable way of hijacking my whole stupid goddamn brain. She wasn't even trying to, I don't think, but whenever she asked me to do something, or looked like she needed help, all bets were off. Because she made me feel good, made me feel like I was worth something; Even if I needed to shift my whole outlook to accommodate her, I'd do it in a heartbeat.

You know, now that I think about it, I'm thinking that maybe, I might have had a _little bit_ of a crush.

-Break-

I had never worked in a glowing red operating room before; The light of the setting sun through the thin animal-skin tarp had painted the whole tent in the shade of fresh blood, and it felt cramped, visceral, _dangerous._ Walking in through those tent flaps, I felt like I was climbing down the throat of a beast.

"What's the situation?" I asked. There were two large, shirtless, and utterly identical men crammed into the tent beside the patient, a short guy with brown skin and frizzy black hair. He was lying comatose on a sturdy wooden table, staring up into the leather ceiling. Although I didn't notice it at first, there was a tiny old woman kneeling beside him, staring at us with puffy red eyes. The air smelled like shit and incense.

"Savanna…" said the little old woman, very quietly. Savanna gave her a short glare, and the old woman covered her face and looked away. The twins didn't seem to notice.

"Well, me and my brother Jacob were out mining iron with Amos, two nights ago now. It was dark, kind of spritzing. We were talking about the rain, when suddenly the iron ore started sparking and Amos fell over, rutsching all over the ground, then went all stiff. Wuntz, we thought he was dead, but we carried him back anyways, thinking it would be easier on Anna…" Said one of the two men, accentuating his A's in that funky sorta way they spoke in. He looked sympathetically at the old woman on the floor.

"Of course. Was he shot more than once?" I asked. The twin who hadn't spoken yet, Jacob, nodded.

"Aye, in his arm and the chest. Miss Kauffman did her best patching the holes, God bless her heart, and Eli here gave him Stimpacks, but it wasn't enough; We used our Stimpacks until they were all, and he didn't get better. He's only been lying like this, moving nothing but his head and sometimes one of his arms, not speaking none. It wonders me if maybe he ain't got his back shot."

"That's what I was thinking. Has he vomited at all?" I asked, bending over and listening to Amos's breathing. It was even but weak, so I opened up his airway with a jaw-thrust and peeped down it with my dim pip-boy flashlight. The twins didn't answer my question, just looked at me funny.

"Did he _Kutz_ when they shot him?" asked Savanna, highlighting the foreign word condescendingly. Both of the twins shook their heads.

"Oh, no. He has shat himself, but we changed his clothes," said Eli. I nodded absently and pulled out my utility knife. One of them flinched, only to let out a sigh of relief when I pressed the knife against the edge of Amos's faded flannel, and slowly sliced it down the middle. He was positioned belly up, which would at least make getting his shirt off easy. I'd still have to roll him over to examine his spine.

"Miss Mary Kaufmann Is gonna kill you for that," said Jacob, motioning towards the patterned lump of denim. I didn't know much about clothing, but the quality of the make was pretty close to my own coat. I grinned.

"This the same gal who fixed the artery? She did a good job." I touched Amos's sutured radial artery with my middle and index fingers, ran it along the wound. The bullet had clearly gone in and out, completely splitting the artery and fracturing the radius along the way.

"Should we bring her here?" asked Eli. I gave him a thumbs up.

"You read my mind! Don't suppose you want to spike me a bag of saline, too?" I was met with blank stares. Still grinning to myself, I shooed the two men away; _It had been worth a shot._ I turned to the old woman- Amos's mother, Savanna's mum- and motioned for her to stand. She started shaking her head.

"You should probably get out of here too, ma'am. I know that he's your son, but I-"

"No, NO! Why should I let you near him? I've never met you- how do I know you aren't going to do something horrible to him!?" she demanded, leaning forward and stabbing me in the chest with a bony, accusing finger. I tried to put my palm on top of her hand, but she swatted it away.

"Get out of his way, mum. He's a doctor," said Savanna, with none of her usual patience or sensitivity. I put out a hand and started to tell Savanna to back off, but the old woman spoke before I could.

"I don't care if he's a _doctor-_ will he hurt my baby? How do I know he won't do some awful _experiments?"_ she asked, her wrinkled, tear-streaked face drawn up in anguish. I put a hand on her shoulder.

"Honestly ma'am, I'm not sure what I'm gonna do. I still need to figure out what exactly is wrong. If my guesses are right, though, he is gonna need surgery."

"Does it involve computers? Machines?" asked the old woman. I looked down at Amos;

He probably had some C-Spine damage, which would mean open spine surgery, performed with no drugs except for Morphine, MED-X and Stimpacks. It sounded like Amos had been attacked by rifle bullets, and I wasn't seeing the telltale signs of a recently-healed exit wound, so there was probably a big-ass chunk of metal lodged directly in his damaged c-spine. Because they'd Stimpacked the wounds, ( _which somehow didn't count as a breach of code?)_ even finding exactly where the bullet was lodged would be awful tricky without consulting the pip-boy. Once I found it, I'd have to work carefully to take the bullet out and apply MED-X to the damaged section of the spine, followed immediately by a Stimpack around the site of surgery.

To top it all off, if I didn't work fast enough, he would probably die from infection because of all the nasty bacteria invading his exposed spinal column, a possibility that I didn't even want to imagine. Stimpacks kill early-stage infection, but they don't do much for septic shock, and I wasn't sure that they'd do anything for intramedullary abscesses either. Stimpack treatment tends to fall apart in regard to structures made of things other than soft tissue and cartilage.

"Almost certainly," I concluded. The woman let out a shaky sigh.

"This goes against everything I've ever believed. Technology is what brought us so low, and nothing good can come from relying on it now. It's a blight on this Good Earth," she said, stroking her son's arm as she spoke. She didn't sound very sure of herself.

"If I'm the one doing the surgery, I don't think that God would fault him for it. My choice, my sin."

"But it would be mine too, because I'd be letting you! I want my son back, but I haven't followed God's teachings this long to _abandon_ them when they become inconvenient!"

Everyone was silent for a moment. Savanna looked furious, but she didn't say anything. In that moment, Amos must've been the only person in the room who wasn't holding their breath.

"Would Amos want to be saved?" I asked, eventually. The woman didn't hesitate before nodding.

"Oh, Of course he would! Amos was never a believer. I tried so hard to reach him, but he's just like his father… Faithless, worried only about this mortal plane," she said, glaring at her son through the tears. I lifted my hand off of her shoulder.

"Then there's nothing that you could do to stop me."

I stood up, and got back to assessing Amos. I removed my pip-boy and placed it next to Amos to see if the old woman would react, and she didn't. For her part, she just silently pulled herself to her feet, kissed her son on the forehead, and shuffled on out of the tent. Savanna kept glaring at her until she had left the tent, and for a while after she was gone too.

That left me, Savanna, and Amos.

"You didn't have to be so mean to her," I said, grabbing a coyote pelt from off the floor and wrapping it around Amos's neck. I rolled him onto his front, and began to unwrap the pelt and position it under his face. Turned his head on his side too, just to make sure he wasn't rebreathing too much of that Co2.

"You don't know her, Isaac. Since the day I got adopted into the tribe, Mum's been ashamed of me. She'd never say it, but she's ashamed of Amos too. 'Too much like his father…' The hell does that even mean?"

"He was a scientist, right? She probably just found it hard to justify his ideas within her worldview," I replied. I pulled off Amos's slashed shirt by the hem, and tossed it aside; Too many loose, non-sterile threads to be of any use as a bandage. Its size was good, but I'd honestly rather deal with using five yards of thin gauze than the nasty infections that could result from leaving fabric in non-stimpacked wounds.

"Yeah, exactly! She's a small minded bigot, just like everyone else in this goddamn tribe. They _live_ off of fear, and it's never fear of anything smart- No, they like to ignore the real problems in favor of some imagined "technological" threat, which they solve by making some stupid rules so that they can feel like they're doing their part in preventing it. Like, who the hell decided that calculators are, " _Forbidden Technology_ ," but guns and moonshine stills aren't?"

"Someone who knew how to have a good time, _clearly_."

_I hadn't heard that voice before._ Slowly, I turned to face the new figure who was standing between the tent-flaps. She was a little bit taller than me, with wispy blonde hair that went over her eyebrows, and a small, pointed face. She was wearing an unpatterned blue dress, and that weird white cap thing on the back of her head.

" _Mary_ ," said Savanna. I was starting to get to know Savanna's tones, and while it was still an inexact science, I didn't get any warm, fuzzy feelings off of that one.

"Oh, hallo! I never thought I'd be seeing you again, _Savanna,"_ said Mary, smiling in a way that reminded me of one of my own incompetent smiles. Savanna didn't smile back.

"Trust me, Mary, the feeling is mutual."

_Alright, so, we've got some tension in the operating room. Not really optimal, but at least they ain't fighting! I can work with this!_

"Well, Savanna, I'm glad to see you too. How have things been out in the festering wasteland? I can't imagine that you've been doing well without _poor_ Saul," replied Mary, holding her hand over her heart. That sounded like a real nice thing to say, but based on the look that Savanna had, I don't think it was.

"Yeah, I am doing well, actually. In fact, I'm not just doing well, I'm doing great! I've even made some _real_ friends since I left- you know what I mean? Like, friends who aren't just pretending to care."

_Oh, that doesn't sound good!_ I clapped my hands together.

" _ **So!**_ I'm sure that it's real nice that you two finally get to see each other again, but there'll be plenty of time to catch up _after_ the surgery. Now that we're all here and situated, let's review our situation right-quick!" I said, trying not to be too obvious while I plowed directly through the layers and layers of social facsimiles. The two glared at each other for a couple of tense seconds, then looked at me expectantly. I couldn't fool Savanna, but I was pretty sure that I could just pull the autism-card on Mary if she started asking about my apparent social blundering. For now, I was just going to have to keep them distracted with work and instructions, so that they couldn't possibly have time to provoke each other in my emergency room.

"…So, here's the deal: we've got a relatively stable, paralyzed patient with a serious spinal injury and foreign body intrusion, _possibly_ through the really important part in the middle. All his automatic stuff is working fine-ish, but people keep telling me that he hasn't done much moving in the past two days. I have some guesses about what that is, but I ain't about to jump to conclusions. Probably, it's just the body trying to keep him from hurting himself anymore, so that's what I'm gonna go with until I have reason to think otherwise."

"Otherwise?" Asked Mary. I nodded.

"Yeah. There's some nastier possibilities, but we'll see about those when the time comes." She looked like she was going to keep pressing the issue, so I decided to continue before she could talk again. "- **Anyways** , we're gonna need to find the injury, open it up, get the bullet out, and treat it with MED-X. Savanna, I'm putting you in charge of sterilizing my surgical stuff. You know how to get Hydrogen-Peroxide as gas, right?" I asked. Savanna scoffed.

"Duh. I mean, the stuff that you've got is 3%, so I'll need pretty much all of it, but isolating the H2o2 gas from water vapor shouldn't take long."

I nodded. "Good. Of course, that's the easy part- after that, we're gonna need to scrub this entire tent of bacteria, and I still haven't got any idea how the hell we're gonna do that. Either of you got any ideas for that?" I asked. Mary smiled and raised her hand.

"Yes, Mary?" I said, bracing myself for what would probably be a really stupid idea. I might not have shared Savanna's hatred of the little Amish tribe, but I didn't have much faith in their medicine. If Mary noticed my lack of enthusiasm, she didn't show it.

"Well, I ain't sure if you noticed, but this tent's already clean. You see all those candles?" asked Mary. I nodded. I did see those candles- smelled them too. I was already planning on how to dispose of them. "Well, those ain't just for the pretty smell and the romantic atmosphere. The fumes kill airborne disease, and we keep the table rubbed down with alcohol. The only dirty thing in here is the hides, which we treat every week. But, you don't have to put that under him if you don't want to."

I gave her a blank stare. "Oh," I said, eventually. I stared at one of the dripping wax-candles, and started squinting at it as if it would reveal some hidden magic. It didn't. I just found myself getting more and more confused as I tried to sort through all the ways that a bacteria-killing candle might work. Was it an ancient art, or some of that Good-Christian-Magic that people were always trying to get working properly? I kept squinting at one of the candles, waiting in vain for my mind to come up with some coherent explanation for what had just been revealed.

"We're old fashioned, _ausländer_ , not stupid," said Mary, smirking condescendingly. Savanna and I looked at eachother, and Savanna shook her head and mouthed something impolite. Still wracked with intense, unshakable confusion, I adjusted my glasses and pretended that I didn't hear her.

"Well, uh, thanks for that, Mary. I guess that leaves the procedure, which I think we're gonna go over in, "real time." I'm better at showing that I am at explaining, you know?" I pointed to the tent flaps. "Savanna, you should go sterilize my stuff. I'm gonna go get the other supplies out of the cart. Mary, you've done all the most impressive work on Amos so far, so I'm just gonna leave you to watch him for a minute. Do you think that you could shave the back of his head for me?"

"Yes, but I need to fetch a pail of warm water. How about I do this, and Savanna can clean your knives when I get back?" said Mary. I shrugged.

"Good enough for me. You got any input, Savanna?" Savanna stared at me, then at Mary, and then back at me. After a tense pause, she nodded.

"Okay."

"Great! I'm heading out to the cart. See you guys soon?"

"Oh, definitely!"

I gave Mary a quick little thumbs up, and pushed my way past the tent flaps, out into the warm twilight air. It was getting dark now, so I took a mental note to grab myself a flashlight and some duct-tape from the cart; I couldn't imagine performing spinal surgery in the dark.

As has become common, the ugly reality of my situation was finally starting to set in, and way too late for me to do anything about it. I was now committed to performing an open-spine surgery, in the middle of Hillbilly-Hell, with a largely improvised procedure and tools. Back before the war, they'd use a robot to do this surgery- I was doing it with my hands. And, seeing as how the surgery was on Savanna's brother, she'd probably never forgive me if I screwed up. I thought back to what had happened to poor Tyrone, how my mistake had been so life changing that he wouldn't even let me try to fix him… I hadn't dreamt much in the last few days, but I had, on more than one occasion, woken up in the middle of the night, thinking of that face that he'd made when I walked into the room; the only time that I'd been able to read a complete stranger's expression perfectly, because there had been nothing hiding under it.

If I messed up here, Amos wouldn't be able to make any sort of face at me, because he would be dead. Savanna would still be alive though, and she would probably look at me with the same kind of disgust that Tyrone did, and then I'd have two people in the world who hated me more than anyone else- Three, if I counted Tandi's hovering disposition after the cardiac-tamponade.

I didn't like that thought much, because having Savanna as an enemy would mean that I couldn't make dinner with her anymore, or do alcohol-fueled scientific experiments at three in the morning, and that wouldn't do! I pressed my fingers against my temples, and closed my eyes. A purplish yellow light lingered under my eyelids. I took deep breaths, tried to calm myself…

_A life is hanging in the balance. If I mess up, someone's gonna die. Nothing else about this has any right to worry me- I do this all the time._ I opened one eye to squint at the rocks on the ground. There weren't any interesting rocks, so I closed it again and kept doing deep breaths until my breath stopped being shaky. Once I was sure that I wasn't gonna start hyperventilating, I let my natural breathing take back over, and began the short trip to the cart. I felt a little better, though my bowels were still knotting themselves with anxiety.

_I better be getting a fucking date out of this._

-Break-

"Are we ready?" I adjusted my improvised surgical mask that was really just a period-pad that had been taped over my mouth and nose. My voice was confident, but my words rang hollow. _I'm sure as hell not ready. How can I expect them to be?_

"Well, whenever I do anything important, I like going over each step, to make sure of not missing. Have we done everything?" Asked Mary. I bit my lip. _Head shaved, instruments sterilized, skin around incision-site rubbed with PVP-I, vitals taken on pip-boy, intubated via endotracheal-airway, Glasgow coma score taken at an 4, bullet marked with masking tape, flashlight taped to ceiling at a good angle…_ I didn't have a routine for surgeries yet, but I'd gone over things like this in my head before, and my list was looking promising so far. _Morphine administered as anesthesia, Area around incision-site isolated with sterile dressings. All operators masked, ran out of gloves, made Savanna some gauze-pad mittens…_

"Yeah, I think so. I'm just gonna go for it," I said. Before I could change my mind, I grabbed the makeshift Steady inhaler off the side table, and pressed the tube between my lips. Savanna handed me a cigarette lighter, and I hit the switch and pressed it against the heating agent, letting the little orange flame turn the crumpled aluminum foil a sickly shade of black and yellow. Little black bubbles were starting to form in the empty sarsaparilla bottle that served as the chamber, which was quickly filling up with a purplish steam.

"Oh, that is _disgusting,"_ muttered Savanna, as I sucked in a cloud of the foul-smelling gas. I took a second to swallow the vapor, which tasted almost as bad as it smelled, and grinned.

"Yeah, this is some nasty stuff! Not good for your nervous system, either." I curled and uncurled my fingers experimentally. _Perfectly steady._

Once I'd gotten over the novelty of being able to properly control my fine-motor movements, I laid the steaming inhaler down on the little aluminum side-table that we'd brought over, clamped off the tube, and examined the assorted instruments. These were the tools that were sitting on the table:

+A small bone chisel, which was basically just a specialized knife.

+A pair of tissue forceps, which looked like scissors with beetle-jaws at the end.

+Two pairs of Dissecting Forceps, which looked like pointy nail clippers.

+A pair of big tweezers that father kept trying to call "DeBakey forceps."

+Five mismatched lancets with slightly different blades. A couple of them looked like miniature spears, whereas the rest were more glaive-like.

+My trusty utility knife.

+One NCR-Issue stimpack, courtesy of Gram.

+My eon old emergency MED-X solution, with the bright purple tubing along the side.

+A couple of Curettes, just aluminum spoons with real tiny scoops.

+A pair of needle-nose plier-looking things that I didn't know the name of.

All of the instruments were sitting in a surprisingly shiny steel baking-tray that Savanna had found in the kitchen, and sterilized alongside the blades. One by one, I picked them up, tested them in my hands, and set them back down. I was still a little bit shaky with the larger instruments, so I picked up the steady inhaler and took another drag from the thin plastic tube. The liquid wasn't bubbling no more, but there was enough leftover vapor that I didn't have to heat it again.

"Alright, _now_ I'm ready. Mary, Savanna, you two have got all the names down, right?"

"Yep," said Savanna, through her improvised period-pad mask. Mary nodded silently.

"Alright then- Savanna, hand me the primary lancet. Mary, get ready to swab the skin under the tape with PVP and alcohol. I'm gonna make the cut," I said. Inside, I was screaming. _This is it,_ I thought, _the point of no return! No fuck-ups from this point on._

I took the #30 black lancet from Savanna, and pressed the blade against the little blue strip of masking tape that marked where the bullet laid- near the bottom of his c-spine, between the damaged c6 and c7 sections. I pulled it off in one quick motion, and stepped out of the way as Mary cleaned off the residual adhesive and rubbed the newly exposed skin with the orange PVP-I dust. As soon as she stepped out of the way, I gripped the lancet between my fingers like a pencil, and plunged the blade into the spot just above the site of the wound. I held my breath as I waited for the blood to come.

After a few seconds of tense silence, a steady stream of bright-red blood began to seep from the incision, running along the edge of his right scapula and staining the gauze that we'd used to isolate the site. It wasn't much, but a little bit of blood goes a long way.

"Made the first stab, now I'm making the cut. Savanna, ready with the tissue forceps. I'm gonna open up a little hole in his back, and we're gonna hold it open in the middle with those. You know how to lock 'em, right?"

"Yeah. I figured it out while I was cleaning them."

"Good. I'll give you a signal…" I tried not to wince as I ran the lancet through Amos's oak brown skin, skimming over the spine and cutting through the many layers of muscle that ran across his cervical column. Sections c6 and c7 look more like bits of the t-spine than they do sections of the c-spine, because the two "tails" that are normally characteristic of c-spine segments start to merge into 1 wider tail starting at c5. The final cut was to be from c4 to t6, (The pip-boy had indicated possible damage up to t5, and I wanted to be on the safe side) so I had to go slow and move my blade upwards to accommodate for the gradual shift of shape. Once I hit the base of t6, I flicked Savanna in the arm with my left hand.

"Forceps!" I hissed. Savanna swept past me, and carefully placed the hooked tips of the forceps into the middle of the incision, right at the height of the t-spine. I stood by, watching warily as she slowly opened up the forceps, spreading the slit of skin and muscle and exposing the bloody spinal column underneath. It was mostly just reddish meat, but apparently I'd made the cut deep enough that the crests of the spine itself were just _barely_ exposed. I sighed with relief. _Step one, down._

The damage was immediately evident; section t5 was fractured in a single place, c5 and c6 were fractured in multiple places, and the spinal cord was unmistakably severed under c5. A misshapen copper-coated bullet, with the entire upper half folded in on itself, was jammed just between c5 and c6. It glinted in the white glow of Tandi's flashlight.

"What's that rutsching thing in his back? Oh, lord, is that his…?" Started Mary, hovering over Amos on the other side of the operating table. I nodded.

"Yep. That's his heart alright." All three of us stared solemnly at the pulsating little spot for a while, where little bubbles of blood were rising up and down with each pump. "You're seeing the tissue behind it expanding. I didn't expect to see that, but I guess you see something new every day!"

"It's beating pretty slowly," observed Savanna, locking the forceps into place. I put a hand on her shoulder, and she stepped away from Amos, trading places with Mary and allowing me to step up and examine our handiwork. It wasn't bad- the diamond-shaped cavity was extremely large, but we appeared to have located all three of the wounds, and we'd be sealing it shortly anyways. My incision hadn't hit any of the little arteries that ran along the spine, which I was pretty sure meant that I was some sort of god, because there are a _lot_ of those things. The c5 and c6 wounds would require some thoughtful operating, while the t5 wound was a simple, minor fracture, probably from falling on the way down. I decided to start with that one. I still had my lancet, so I quickly sliced through the two-odd-layers of muscle that sat atop the t5 plate, and removed the chunk with my fingers. I didn't manage to avoid the arteries this time, but, thankfully, it appeared that these ones weren't gonna bleed much. They sprinkled with each beat of the heart, but the blood loss wasn't bad enough to amount to anything significant. I set down my lancelet on the side table.

"Need MED-X and pliers. Pliers first, I'll signal for med-x," I said, holding out my right hand to accept the plier-things from Mary. I gave them one quick, experimental squeeze, then got right to work digging through the meat around Amos's damaged t5, which had been split just to the right of the long, thin tail. After a few seconds of squelchy searching-and-prodding, I managed to get one head of the pliers on the right main tail, and one side on the flat side of the t5 segment. Once I was sure that they wouldn't slip, I relaxed my grip, and allowed the pliers to bring the fractured segment back together. I was still holding them in place, but I was pretty sure that they weren't going to move.

Though I was sweating profusely from my forehead, I pulled down my mask, and smiled at my fellow operators, because they were looking nervous.

"First section is about to be fixed, guys! Get ready to hand me the med-x!" I took one last look at the pliers, released them, and started to pull my mask back up. Obviously, the pliers stayed right where I put them, because I am a master surgeon who can do no wrong.

Well, that was what happened in my _head._ In reality, I must have put the pliers on a slippery section, because they went "SNAP!" and flew up out of his back the second that I released them. My jaw dropped and my mouth shot open as I scrambled to catch the things, groping wildly for a rubberized grip or metal head, or…

I looked down in the wound, and failed to spot any needle-nosed pliers, so I checked my hands; not there either. Savanna and Mary were looking at me funny, and I started to ask them why, only to realize midway through my muffled sentence where the pliers had ended up; _In my mouth._ I'd caught the things between my teeth.

"Ah. Ehm. Ca' so'one gra' thoshe for meh?" I asked, because I didn't want to get slobber on my sterilized (and currently bloodied) gloves. Savanna gave me an angry look.

" _Please_ don't put those back inside Amos," she said, grabbing the pliers from between my teeth with her gauze-pad mittens. I nodded.

"Yeah, thas prob'ly a good idea. Ah goddamn, now my jaw hurts…"

"Watch your mouth, Auslander! We need the lord on our side for this operation!" Said Mary. I managed a weak laugh.

"Ahahaha. Ah. Yeah. Um, I think that maybe all the forbidden technology has already ruined our chances of divine intervention, so I ain't gonna stress about it right now." There was an awkward pause. I stared at Amos's open wound, then at the operating table, then at the presumably-infected pliers. I cleared my throat. "So… We got anything else we could use, now that the pliers are contaminated?"

"Just take off the rubber parts! If you're having trouble holding it that way, wrap it with gauze," suggested Mary, grabbing an unopened pack of gauze bandaging from the table. I nodded and pulled my mask back over my mouth.

"I like the way that you think, Mary! Savanna, hand her the pliers, and- oh, let me see that," I said, snatching the pack of gauze from Mary, who was struggling to get through the plastic wrap. I couldn't open it along the seam with my slippery wet gloves, so I just held it in one hand and tore it with my teeth. Once I'd torn it a few inches, I handed it off to Mary, who was now holding the pliers in her other hand. She looked mystified.

"Did that not hurt?" She asked. I shrugged.

"I dunno. I didn't feel nothing."

After a few seconds of tinkering, Mary handed me back the pliers, now freed of their rubber grips and contained within some tightly wrapped gauze. I squeezed them experimentally.

"Huh- The grip is actually pretty good. Thanks, Mary!"

"You're very welcome… _Isaac_ , right?" She asked. I nodded.

"Yep. You guys got an Isaac? Y'all really love your old-testament names, so I wouldn't surprised," I replied, hunching over Amos and getting my pliers back into place. My confidence was still shaken from the last attempt, but at least I knew what _not_ to do now. I continued to search for a good spot, scraping over the smooth bone with the twin metal blades.

"No, but we used to. Know you what the name means?" She asked, in that weird word order that I was quickly getting sick of deciphering. I shook my head. "It means, "laughing one." Our Isaac told me that when I was little."

"Interesting," I said. Mary nodded sagely.

"Yes, _very_ interesting."

I grit my teeth in anticipation as I prepared to release the pliers once again. Slowly, millimeter-by-millimeter, I let off on the grips, until I was _absolutely completely and utterly_ sure that they would not move. Once I was finally confident, I thought about releasing them, then thought better of it and decided not to. Instead, I held them right where they were, and grabbed the Med-X off the table with my weird left hand. I'm pretty sure that I'd planned to signal for it and have someone grab it for me, but I was, "in the zone," so to speak. As long as I could stay focused and stay calm, I'd be like an artist at work.

A third rate, drugged-up abstract artist, that is. A real Jackson Pollock.

"Injecting the MED-X. Someone, get ready with a Stimpack." Without thinking much of it, I clasped the fragile MED-X syringe between my two pointing fingers on my weird hand, switched it off to the space between the pointer-fingers of my dominant hand, and then switched my grip on the pliers to my left hand; I wanted to make sure that I was performing the injection with my better hand, because this was where I had the smallest margin of error. I had to hit the spinal cord first, in case it was damaged, and then go on to the actual bone. I held my breath, and slipped the MED-X syringe under the t-5 plate, stabbing the tiny needle through the articular capsule and into the spinal cord, where I released a minuscule amount of the stuff, and then drew the needle out immediately. Amos's heart was still beating through his spine, so I decided that I must not have killed him yet. I moved on to the fracture.

The fracture was easier. Since I'd pressed the fractured sections back into shape with the pliers, all it took was a hot-glue-gun style drip of MED-X along the seam of the fracture, and I was done! Although it was impossible to tell from the surface, the injured bone was now fusing itself back together, rebuilding a thousand little connections as the clear healing solution trickled down through the fracture. After twenty seconds, I released my grip on the pliers, which actually stayed this time, and placed the syringe back on the table. I decided to leave the pliers in place until I needed them again, but I knew from experience that MED-X reconstructs bones even faster than Stimpacks reconstruct flesh. Its work would be done in under a minute.

_BAM! Step two, down!_ I could have giggled. I didn't, of course, because I was performing a spinal procedure, _but I could've!_

"Alright boys- er, girls, I'm feeling good about this! Let's get this bullet out, and finish up in time to eat a nice, celebratory dinner!" I cried, cracking my knuckles and grinning maniacally. Then, I thought about that last part for a second, and thought of a better way to say it:

"Hey Savanna, if I don't screw this up, wanna have dinner together?"

Savanna raised an eyebrow at me. "Well, sure. But, don't we have dinner together most nights?"

I sighed. _That_ wasn't what I meant.

"No no, I mean, like, a dinner _date_. With candles and all the works."

Mary gasped and covered her mouth with her hands, which was unnecessary given the mask. Savanna went completely rigid, then yanked her mask off and looked at me like I was an insane person. I looked away.

"What- Isaac! W-why the hell…?" Her face was starting to turn red. I wondered if maybe I picked a bad time to say that, what, with her paralyzed brother laying on an operating table with his back hanging open. It stung and all, but I could see where I'd gone wrong. I began to regret my decision.

"I'm sorry, that wasn't very good timing," I admitted. Savanna closed her eyes, and let out a deep breath. Mary continued to look uncomfortable, which these Amish folks seemed to be really good at. She pressed her fingers against her nose.

" _Oh my god._ After the surgery, Isaac. Ask me again _after_ the surgery," she said, and I nodded; I could live with that.

"Okay. Why don't you put the mask back on, and calm down a little. Mary, hand me them tweezers- I think I'm going for the bullet."

I pushed all of the emotions I was feeling out of my head as I grabbed the "Debakey Forceps," (Read: Tweezers) from Mary, and tested the clamping mechanism, weighed it between my fingers. Once I was sure that I had it down, and that I wasn't going to let my tumultuous feelings screw me up, I hunched down over Amos again and started to lower the tweezers into the space between c5 and c6. Up above me, the flashlight flickered on and off, briefly casting the tent between dim, concentrated light and absolute darkness. I didn't mind, because I'd already found my target; he was a slippery little bastard, to be sure, but I was pretty sure that if I could get 'im loose of the surrounding tissue, it wouldn't be that hard to get him out. He wasn't stuck in a bone, just lodged between two of them.

I started working at the muscle that the bullet was lodged in, right between c5's right _Ligamenta Flava_ and its right Articular capsule. At first, I tried digging at it with just the hooked tweezers, but it quickly became clear that this wasn't gonna work. Not bothering to signal or ask, I set down the tweezers and picked back up one of the assorted lancelets, and got to work removing the remaining layers of muscle from around c5 and c6. It was a gruesome process, with lots of little arteries sprinkling and dripping as I carved through them, but it had to be done. Once I had etched a line around the block of tissue that needed to be removed, I set back down the lanclet and picked back up my tweezers.

It took a couple of tries, but, before long, I had extracted the two layers of muscle and moved them off to the side, where I could keep it until I was ready to graft it back on at the end. The bullet was clearly and fully visible now, lodged firmly in the connective material between c5 and c6. The fractures were more visible now, too, and they were _nasty-_ c5 and c6 had been utterly shattered by the bullet's impact. Based on the location of the bullet, the corresponding section of the spinal cord had most likely been completely vaporized.

"Lovely," I muttered, moving my tweezers to get a grip on the dented front end of the bullet. I had to dig through some connective tissue, but I got both ends of the tweezers around the big copper shell fairly quickly. Just based on the position, I knew that I couldn't get it out on the first go, so I decided to focus my efforts on loosening it up, and getting it to a less difficult position. I spent two silent minutes tapping it, prying at it, tweaking it up and letting it fall back down.

Then, in one sudden, inspired moment, I clasped the tweezers around the bullet and **yanked** it out.

Everyone watched in silent shock as the shiny, blood-coated bullet came out with my tweezers, then slipped from my grip and tumbled through the air, striking the tray of surgical implements with a loud, "PLINK!" before falling silently onto the ground. The proverbial dust settled without a sound, and we all shared a moment of amazement.

"Was that the bullet?" asked Mary. I nodded sheepishly.

"Yeah. Anyone want to get it?"

"I'll grab it," said Savanna, hunching over and placing her hands on the coyote-pelt that the bullet had fallen onto. After a few seconds of searching, she turned around and presented us with the slick, glinting bullet, holding it in her white gauze-pad mittens like a baby-tooth that had just come out. I started laughing.

"Well sweet baby Jesus, we did it! We got the bullet out!" I turned back to Amos. Despite having the bullet removed, he still wasn't looking very good, which reminded me that I wasn't done yet. I was practically spilling over with emotion now, but I'd have to put it away one more time before I could really celebrate; I still had to fix the fractures, and repair the muscles, and the connective tissues…

In short, I still had a lot of work to do. So, I stood back up, set down the tweezers, and removed the pliers from the fully-healed t5 section. C5 was more-or-less shattered, but I still wanted to at least _attempt_ to bring the pieces back together before I applied the MED-X. That would reduce the chance of deformation, which would, in turn, greatly improve poor Amos's long-term outlook. I'd already removed all of the obstructive muscle-tissue from section c5 to get the bullet out, so all I had to do was place one end of the pliers on the outermost right edge of c5, and the other end on the outermost left edge. Once I released pressure, the pliers sort-of kind-of not-really brought the pieces back together-ish, scrunching them up like a jigsaw puzzle that was missing pieces.

_It'll have to do_ , I decided, and grabbed the MED-X with my off-hand. First came the vaporized section of the spinal cord, which I repaired by slipping the syringe through the already-damaged _Ligamenta Flava_ of the c5 section. As an afterthought, I moved the syringe up and repaired the section under c6 as well, slipping through the corresponding _Ligamenta Flava_ and injecting a couple of small drops into the spinal cord. I don't know how necessary this was, since the cord-damage was focused directly under c5, but I did it anyways because I like to be thorough.

Once I was done with the spinal cord, I moved on to repairing the c5 fracture, which I'd recently squished together using the pliers. Since I still had plenty of MED-X left, I applied it liberally to the fracture lines, using about half the syringe (Somewhere in the range of 400 caps) worth of the stuff on that section alone. My wallet didn't appreciate the move, but it did speed up the process immensely- immediately, I could see the fracture lines closing and the broken pieces shifting themselves back together, making a bit of a hissing noise and filling the air with a chill that permeated through my rubber gloves and into my skin. Once the spine had stopped moving and the reaction had stopped sucking away heat, I removed the pliers and applied them to c6, which had been split clean in half.

I smiled with satisfaction as the pliers brought the two separated sections back together, so perfectly and thoroughly that it almost looked like it hadn't been fractured in the first place. The only evidence that it had ever been injured was the thin line running through the two-pronged fin, which I sealed using just a few drops of MED-X. The stuff worked like Wonderglue, and soon section c6 was stable enough to hold together without the pliers.

"The spine is all fixed up now! Someone get me a Stimpack, I've got a whole bunch of shit to seal," I said, setting the half-empty MED-X syringe down on the metal tray. Mary started to grab for the Stimpack but Savanna beat her, and handed it to me before Mary could process her defeat. I gave her a nod of acknowledgement and began the sealing process, starting with the t-5 section and moving up. This process was a lot less surgical than the rest, because I basically just packed the damaged meat back into place and applied Stimpack-fluid to it until it looked normal again.

Once I'd fixed all of the secondary incisions and tissue damage, I squirted some Stimpack fluid into a gauze bandage and wrung it out over the cavity, to disinfect the site and heal any miscellaneous damage. I did a quick double-check to make sure I hadn't missed anything, checked his HEALTH status on the pip-boy to _confirm_ that I hadn't missed anything, then removed the forceps and sealed the primary incision using the rest of the Stimpack. Over the course of about thirty cold seconds, the massive cavity through Amos's back stitched itself back together, and after about a minute it looked almost as good-as-new, though the skin was discolored and split along a seam. Amos's eyes fluttered as the incision finished sealing up, and I heard him let out a grunt of pain through his throat-tube and shift his weight a bit as his newly-repaired nervous system "rebooted" itself on the spot.

_Patient responsive. Steps three, four, and five, down for the count!_

Shaking with barely contained glee, I tore off my mask, and looked at Savanna right in the eyes. I saw her shoulders sag, with what I could only imagine was a mix of both great relief and utter defeat. I smiled at her.

"So, Savanna, how 'bout that dinner?"

[+]


	15. The Skyline

(+)15

2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

8342 BYTES FREE

HOLLOW TAPE LOADED: "THE-SKYLINE"

INITIALISING…

SUCCESS!

**STATUS**

Battery Level: 24%

Wireless Signal: (?)

Operating Temperature: 92F

**HEALTH**

BP: 130/100

SPO2: 100%

Temp: 98.5F

RR: 14

HR: 90

**TIME**

Day: 29 SEP. 2279

Time: 23:24

**CLIMATE**

Current Temperature: 73 F

Atmospheric Pressure: 761 mmHG

* * *

The full moon hung high in the clear, starry night sky of the Teakettle-Junction traditional village, where a celebration was in full swing. Shouting, laughter, and terrible bluegrass music filled the smoky air. It was a celebration for the life of Amos, who, much to the surprise of everyone, was currently recovering in the medical tent over a steaming plate of mashed-tatos and onion soup. Everyone had assumed that he was a goner, until the weird _auslander_ with the raggedy white coat showed up and cured him of his affliction. They'd even built a huge funeral pyre, which was currently being used as the centerpiece of the party to roast kebabs and marshmallows.

_Where is that weird auslander now_ , someone must have wondered, _and why hasn't he come out to celebrate?_

Well, that _auslander_ has got issues, and he don't much enjoy loud singing. So, he was tucked away in a corner of the town hall, enjoying a candlelit dinner and a bottle of wine with his friend Savanna. There were other people in the building sitting around the main table and telling ghost-stories, but none of them seemed to notice us. Without the coat, I just looked like a scrawny farmer, and people already knew that Savanna was back. Seemed like most people here either didn't care enough for her or about her to say anything.

"... and, now that we're alone, I just wanted to say that I'm _real_ sorry about how I cornered you during the surgery. I was just being brash, 'cause things were going so well, and I figured that since I was already on a roll…"

"Oh my God, Isaac, we've been over this! You saved my brother, I feel like you deserve a little bit of slack," interrupted Savanna. I didn't look up from my plate, which contained a hearty mix of steak, mashed-tatos, gravy, and bread. Maybe, if I kept staring at the burn-lines on the steak, my anxiety would go away.

"Well, I don't think you should be obligated to like me, just 'cause I helped you. That'd be stupid," I replied, pushing my chunky mashed tatos through the slats of my fork. Savanna reached across the table to put her hand on top of mine. I didn't stop her.

"Isaac, look at me." I looked at her. She didn't look angry, but faces are good at lying, so I quickly looked back down. "I don't feel obligated to do anything; I just _really_ like you. I have problems letting people close to me, so I got freaked out when you asked me on a date, kinda like I got freaked out when I realized how much _I_ liked spending time with you last night. I think you're amazing."

"Thanks," I said. Savanna squeezed my hand, and I squeezed hers.

"No worries."

Both of us admired each other across the table for a while. Savanna was awfully funny-looking compared with most girls I'd met, but, looking at her candle lit face from across the table tonight, I thought that she was about the prettiest girl I'd ever seen. She had such nice, deep-brown eyes, and this cute dusting of freckles across her face and shoulders…

"What are you staring at?" She asked. I put my arm down on the table, and rested my chin on my hand.

"You."

She laughed, and then smiled, and then leaned across the table at me and started closing her eyes. I wasn't entirely sure what was happening, but I could make an educated guess. I closed my eyes too, and put my hands on her shoulders. Her hair smelled nice, like a mixture of campfire-smoke and cactus fruits...

"Xavier, look! The _Wutz_ is back!"

Immediately, Savanna pushed me away. I snapped my eyes open and looked around for the source of the intrusion, which didn't seem to be in my peripheral vision- all I could see was that Savanna's face was turning red, and that she'd withdrawn herself into the chair. I twisted my back to look behind me, and spotted a tall, brown haired girl with a shiny face. She was doing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"I'm sorry, but who the hell are you?" I asked, draping my arm over the top of the chair to get a better angle on her. The woman laughed, which made me angry; not only had she just interrupted my date and stolen my moment, I was pretty sure that she'd just called Savanna something rude. I wasn't about to stand for that, not when my ego was running so high!

"Ooh, I take it you aren't from around here- I'm Miriam, the mayor's daughter! What's _your_ name?" she asked, cocking her head at me. I stood up from my chair.

"I'm Isaac B. Saller. Maybe you've heard of me?"

"I fear not. Unless you're the… oh, that is you, isn't it? The Doctor! Let me tell you, you're the star of the evening- I can't imagine why you're sitting back here with _her,"_ said Miriam, tilting her head towards Savanna and opening her eyes real wide. I thought about trying to navigate the situation correctly, then decided that it probably ain't worth it. If this girl turned out to be _another_ one of Savanna's petty childhood enemies, I was either going to convince her to back off, or we were gonna fight. I really didn't see a point in prolonging the journey from here to there.

"Alright, Miriam, listen here: I've had a busy day, and I'm plumb tired. All I really want is for you to go away and let me eat my steak and taters. Can you do that for me?" I asked. Miriam did that stupid laugh again, which annoyed me even more this time because it was so clearly a pretense. _Why was she doing this?_

"Oh, we weren't going to bother you any tonight, d'oncha know? You're everyone's favorite _auslander!_ Just let us have a little _fun_ with Savanna, and you can get back to hiding in your corner," said Miriam, pronouncing the word "fun" in audible italics. I looked at Savanna, who looked about ready to sink into the wall, then back at Miriam.

Then, without a word, I took Savanna by the hand and hoisted her up from her seat. She did her best not to look at me as we stalked off towards the front doors, pushing past several small groups of people who stood in my way. I heard Miriam jogging to catch up with me.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" she shouted. I didn't turn around. "I'm not done with her yet! Come back!"

"Get fucked," I shot back. That might have been a bit terse, but it did its job; I was done here. Miriam had made her intentions completely clear, and I wanted nothing to do with her.

"Well, ain't that rude? Xavier! Hey, Xavier, come over here!" She shouted. I kept walking towards the door. "XAV-IER!"

Through the din of the town hall, I could hear loud footsteps behind me. I pressed onwards, dragging Savanna towards the finely-carved double doors that led out the town-hall. Just as I put my hand on the knob, I felt something grab me by my collar. Before I could react, I was standing face-to-face with the biggest, hairiest man that I'd ever met.

He was tall, nearly double my height, and his muscles bulged through his stained button-down shirt. The look was completed by the shaved, heavily scarred head, and the giant beard that adorned his face and neck. I glared up at him at him as he hoisted me up by the collar and held me there, dangling a foot above the animal-fur rug. Miriam, who had just reappeared in the corner of my vision, gave me a "told-you-so" smirk.

"Is this _nichtsnutz_ bothering you?" He asked, holding me up like a skinned carcass. The whole town hall had stopped in their activities to look at us.

"He was, but I don't think he'll give me any more trouble, now that you're here. Right, Isaac?" asked Miriam. I wriggled around in his grasp.

"I- I dunno! You still planning on hurting Savanna?" The two passed some sort of silent information between each other, and Xavier let me down. Trying to convince myself that I now had permission to leave, I straightened out my collar and grabbed Savanna's hand again.

"Not so fast, honeybuns! You can't have it both ways. Either you get away from the little piggy, or we have a problem."

I didn't let go of Savanna. "Makes sense to me."

"Isaac, don't do this- This is between me and them," said Savanna, very quietly. I shook my head.

"Not exclusively." I looked up at Xavier. With my alcohol goggles on, I didn't feel intimidated by his gargantuan size, or the huge muscles that came out of his arms. Looking at him, I guessed that he weighed about 240 pounds. _.._

"Why don't we meet out by the bonfire, where everyone can see us?" I suggested. Xavier snorted. "I mean, I don't normally have much truck with fighting, but you hit a nerve here. Whatta you say we go out there at midnight?"

"You're drunk," said Xavier. I grinned.

"Pshh- Tell me something I don't know!" Xavier looked uneasy. "Come on, it should be an easy fight! What kind of trouble could you have with a little guy like me?"

"Listen to him talk! Xavier, honey, you _have_ to put him in his place," said Miriam. I winked at her, and she gave me a little surprised look that made me feel better inside. _She must have thought I was bluffing._

"I- fine. Anything for you, Mere," replied Xavier, pinching his nose and looking awful tuckered out. He opened up one of the big double doors, and let the nighttime air flood in. Everyone around me looked so confused, which suited my purposes nicely. I made sure to give a little wave goodbye before they closed the door.

"See you at midnight!" I shouted, as Xavier and Miriam walked out the doors. Miriam gave me one last glance over her shoulder, then slammed the door behind her. Soon, people stopped staring at us, and everyone got back to what they were doing before.

Everyone but Savanna, that is.

"What the _hell_ are you doing!?" She hissed. I patted her on the shoulder.

"You'll see. How many kilograms is 240 pounds?"

"About 100- but, why do you need to know? What are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna win."

And I left it at that. Before Savanna could dissuade me, or tell me how stupid I was, I walked out the engraved double-doors, and let them drift shut behind me. Savanna didn't follow me out or try to stop me, which I would take as approval. I checked my pip-boy for the time, which turned out to be 11:43. That gave about twenty minutes to prepare, minus a few because it's good to be early…

Believe it or not, I had a plan.

-break-

TIME

Day: 30 SEP. 2279

Time: 00:02

* * *

The village must have been running on a different clock than me, because it was midnight and Xavier still hadn't shown up. After all this waiting, the oppressive heat and smoke of the bonfire were really starting to get to me.

I checked my coat sleeve- the syringe was still there, tucked away and secured using a strip of duct-tape. Inside the syringe was a 5ml dose of clear, sparkling solution, composed almost entirely of water. The solution, which appeared to be harmless, also contained about 600 milligrams of ketamine, ready for intramuscular injection. Father had suggested 2 milligrams per KG for anaesthetic purposes, but I'd always been of the philosophy that bigger is better with ketamine, especially because I wouldn't be going for a venous injection. Of course, I wouldn't dose fentanyl or morphine the same way, but a larger dose of ketamine will usually just put you out for longer. _Usually._ If all else failed, I might have to to grab the old bag-valve mask and help him breathe until the stuff ran its course, but I wasn't anywhere near the fatal dosage for someone that size.

On the other side of the bonfire, I saw a shirtless, hulking outline approaching me from the other side of the camp, his lumbering image warped by the shimmering air around the flames. I set my stance.

"You're late," I shouted, once he got close enough that I could discern his eyes from the rest of his face-blur; I was going to have to try a new prescription soon, considering how fast my eyes were deteriorating. Xavier didn't respond to me, and since I couldn't make out his face, I wasn't sure if he'd heard me. I decided to repeat myself.

"YOU'RE LATE!" I said again, gesturing towards my pipboy. He must've heard me that time, because he made a growling noise and rolled his shoulders. Apparently my shouting had caught some people's notice, because now all the people sitting around the bonfire were staring at me again. I saw Xavier settling into place.

"Take that damned coat off!" he snapped. I shook my head.

"I think I'd rather keep it on!" Xavier glared at me from across the way, but didn't respond. I guess he just didn't consider it worth dealing with, which I was kind of banking on- if he kept pushing me, I was going to get real close, pretend like I was going to take it off and toss it to him, then stumble forwards and stab him in the outer thigh with the syringe. It wouldn't be half as cool, but, since it wasn't some sort of regulated duel, no one could do much about it. I'd just check his vitals and walk off.

"Are we gonna fight, or what?" I asked, because he still hasn't attacked me. Maybe he was waiting for a sign, or something like that, but as far as I could tell, he was just sitting there. After a few seconds, he nodded.

"Of course." He was silent for a moment. Then, he let out a deep sigh, and looked me in the eyes. "I am... sorry, that you decided to do this, doctor. This is stupid."

"Yeah, I know. We both got somethin' to prove tonight, eh?"

That was supposed to be a, "C'est la vie!" comment, but I think it came across as an insult, based on the look that he gave me after I said it. _Was he really that deluded?_ Did he seriously think that he was doing this for any reason other than his lady-friend's fleeting favor? (Yes, the irony was lost upon me. _)_

"I am going to try not to break you, _doctor._ Do not test me, and I will not need to," he growled. I nodded sympathetically.

"Right, right. Good luck buddy!"

I tried my best to appear relaxed and confident. I didn't want to look like a threat, lest Xavier decide that he needed to pull out all the stops on me, but I did want to appear confident enough that he might hesitate before laying me out. That might give me an extended window of time where I could inject the ketamine, which was probably going to be the hardest part.

Xavier was winding up now, telegraphing himself like he was going to charge me. I smiled to myself- that would be perfect! If I could survive the first attack, then I could do this. Xavier started moving his feet, and I quickly drew myself up into a defensive position, with my feet together. My plan was to keep the direction I was dodging a secret until it was too late for him to shift his gargantuan mass.

_Easier said than done._ He had started moving towards me now, and though the gap between us amounted to about a hundred feet, he was closing it fast. My mind started racing with images of the damage that he would cause to my fragile little frame. _Limbs snapped, ribs caved in, teeth falling out, skull fractured in a dozen places..._

He was about 40 feet away now, and the sand was pounding up behind him as he picked up speed. 40 feet sounds like a lot, but when there's a 200-something pound man charging you at that distance, it sure don't _feel like it._ My body was going into automatic flight mode at this point, and my legs were involuntarily kicking out into a dodging stance. I tried reaching for the ketamine syringe with my shaking right hand, but it just wasn't working, and _Oh holy shit he's really close now!_

Have you ever been driving, only to suddenly realize that you've turned the wrong way onto a one-way-road, when you see headlights coming around the bend? I haven't, but I imagine that that's what this felt like. I knew, rationally, that I could still correct this, but my whole body was convinced that there was nothing I could do, and that my best chance of survival would be to freak out and throw myself somewhere, _anywhere,_ away. I tried fighting it, then realized that I didn't want to fight it, and then-

_BAM!_ Before I could process it, I was laying flat on my back, my senses trying desperately to catch up to my new position. I wasn't quite sure how I got there, but I was pretty sure that I'd rolled some of the way, based on the swimming sensation in my skull.

Desperate to avoid being pinned, I stumbled back up to my feet, and tried to focus on the giant man in front of me. He didn't look like he was going to charge this time- he was just stalking towards me, slow and confident. When I started skittering back and reaching for my sleeve, he picked up the pace, jogging forward and grabbing me around the collar with both hands. He didn't lift me up much, just sort of held me there and tried to look me in the eyes. I wouldn't let him. He drew me closer, and pressed his mouth to my ear. I reached around my back to release my syringe, catching the needle between my fingers. I passed it off to my shaking dominant hand.

"Do not make me hurt you, doctor. If you fall down now and don't get up, I won't have to hit you in the head. _Do you understand_?" he whispered. I could feel his warm, heavy breath tickling the hairs in my ear canal, as I moved my arm into a better position to strike. Xavier moved his head back, and looked me in the eyes. " _Do you understand?"_

"I think so," I replied. My mouth was dry, and my whole body was covered in sweat. Xavier nodded and began to let me down.

"Good…"

As soon as I felt his grip loosening, I wound my arm back and stabbed him right in his bicep. Before he could process what had happened, I pressed down on the injector with my thumb until it wouldn't go any further, then tore it out and stumbled backwards, trying to catch my balance as Xavier threw me aside and grabbed at his arm. He looked at me with bloodshot eyes.

"What did you do!?"

"Taste 600 Milligrams of Vitamin K, you regressivest son of a bitch!"

He stumbled towards me, and I didn't move- I knew from experience that he'd be too confused to fight in the next few seconds. I just beamed down at him, then turned to look at the spectators. Everyone had gone dead silent.

"That one was for Savanna!" I shouted. No one made a noise. They all just stared at me, with looks that I couldn't decipher from any distance. Deciding that that was a good enough response for me, I turned around to check the fallen man's breathing. Like I said, Ketamine doesn't typically induce deadly overdoses at that Kg to Mg ratio, but deep down I couldn't help but be scared for him, because I didn't even really want to hurt him. Plus, he had gone down pretty fast.

"I'm sorry about the Cat Valium, Xavier. It was a big dose, but you should be up in about... _oh, sHI-"_

My eyes flew open. Before I could make a move, something had cracked me across the forehead, _hard._ I stumbled backwards, flashing lights dancing across my cracked and ruined vision. I tried clutching at the bridge of my nose, then my forehead, then my cheekbone… I kept stumbling backwards, patting down my entire face, trying to figure out where exactly he had hit me. I was almost mentally aware again when the second blow came, and my mind was blasted from my body.

I never even felt myself hit the ground.

-break-

I awoke in a familiar, dimly lit room, that nonetheless felt far too bright to have my eyes open in. There were a lot of people hovering over me, though I couldn't tell you exactly how many or who because my vision was badly clouded and whenever anything moved, a clear image of it trailed behind.

" **Welp, call 'em home, boys, he's alive! I'll take my 10 caps whenever** ," screamed one of the blurry outlines above me. I clenched my teeth and jammed my eyes shut again.

" **Isaac! Oh my god, are you okay? Do you remember me!?"** shrieked another specter, putting their face really close to mine. I stuffed my face into the animal-fur pillow below me.

" **Whoa, everyone, let's back off the kid- it looks like he's-** "

"STOP SHOUTING AT ME!"

Immediately, I regretted speaking. With each noise that escaped my throat, I could feel my nasal cavity try to cave in on itself, which was almost as bad as the splitting pain that radiated through my entire head. The only place that didn't hurt was my forehead, which just felt really numb and cold. Based on the plasticky smell and the pull on the skin around it, I was pretty sure that someone had taped some sort of cold-brick on my head, although I had no idea how they'd gotten it so cool. It smelled nice.

_Hey, my nose is working again! That's neat!_

Gradually, the events that led up to this miserable state came flooding back to me. The surgery, the subsequent ego trip, the fight- wait, why had I gotten into a fight again? I didn't usually fight people very often!

Oh, right: Savanna. Where was she now?

"Savanna? Are you here?" I moaned, hurting far too much to pull my head out of its blankety embrace and look for her. I felt her hand on my cheek.

" **You want comtacs?"** Shouted someone, from far away- Gram, I think. I made a grunt of affirmation and tilted my head to the side. I heard Gram and Tandi hissing back and forth for a few seconds, then some rustling in the corner of the room. Then I felt something brushing against me as someone carefully lowered the headphones onto my ears, and let them squeeze. Gram flipped the switch, and the noise of the world was instantly washed out with the dull, pleasant roar of noise-cancelling static. I allowed my damaged eyes to open up.

"Is that better?" asked Savanna. I didn't want to nod, so I gave her a miserable smile in response. "Okay- Do you remember anything, from before you got hit? Like, what's my name?"

I sighed. "Savanna. I just said your name, remember?" I replied, caressing the space around my ice-packed forehead. I felt someone sit down on the bed next to me- probably her, based on the outline. I could figure out the other two by their height and color scheme, but Savanna tended to blend in with the background, probably because her dull orange sundress sort of mixed with her skin, especially when she moved. For all I could tell, she could have been a cazador hovering above me.

"So, you also remember the fight, I take it. The one where you thought that you could beat a 240 pound hunter because you had some _painkillers in a needle_ ," said Savanna, in a tone that I was pretty sure was supposed to be accusatory. I groaned.

"It was not a _painkiller,_ it was a dissociative! I put a whole shit-ton of that stuff in there, so I kinda assumed that he'd go down faster than that!" Although I wanted to shout, I tried real hard to keep my voice from going too loud. Savanna made a head-movement, I think, because I saw the black blob on top of her moving.

" **Well, didn't that work out great for you**?"

"Depends. Did I win?" Savanna's voice caught in her throat.

"You- you _terrible little person!_ I thought you were _dead!_ It doesn't matter if you, " _won,"_ you risked your life because of me! Do you know how I felt when you fell over like that, like he'd just crushed your brain? I felt like it was my fault!" she shouted, her voice producing a painfully loud static-blast through my comtacs. I winced and motioned for her to quiet down. " _I'm sorry_ , but that was the stupidest thing you've ever done. I understand that you were worried about me, but it's not like I've never been pushed around before."

I saw Tandi moving in the corner of my vision. I could tell she was wearing her helmet, because of the red glow shining down from her like a broken stoplight in the fog. I heard her make a creepy little chuckle, distorted both through her mask and my headphones.

"Well, she don't have to worry no more. Xavier won't mess with anyone now," she said. I felt my heart drop in my chest.

"Did I- is Xavier okay? I didn't hurt him badly, did I?" I asked, mind racing with possibilities. I hadn't used too much ketamine, had I? Had he gone and hurt himself while in a paralyzed state? Had he stumbled backwards and fallen into the fire, unable to move or fight because-

"Nah, you didn't do shit. Whatever you poked him with, it didn't even knock him out- just made him stumble around like an idiot." I sighed with relief. "When I learned why you were fighting him, right after he kicked your brains out, I came down and beat the shit out of him myself."

_There it was!_ I groaned. "What did you do to him?" I asked. Tandi chuckled under her helmet.

"Rifle-butt to the throat! His lady-friend didn't feel so good about that, said she was gonna tell her papa, so I hit her, too, went and told her papa myself. He didn't do nothing about it, knows damn well he'd be next..."

I sighed and covered my face. I wanted to complain, but if I was being objective then I really couldn't because it was my fault for bringing it to her attention. And, in the end, I guess that I'd sort of gotten the ends that I'd been hoping for.

"Well, not _nothing,_ per se. He tried to shut down the party, but the people weren't having it. Once they made sure that Xavier wasn't dead, they got right back to drinking and singing. Don't know if you can hear the bluegrass outside, but it's only gonna get worse as they get drunker," said Gram. He patted me on the head. "Well, now that I know that you ain't about to join my dear ma in heaven, I'm gonna get drunk. Turns out that the nature reserve I wanted to see is blocked off by cazadors, so it ain't like I got anything better to do…"

I saw Gram's blurry reddish outline pass by me and exit out the tent, followed by Tandi and her stoplight glow. After the two left, I saw someone else moving- Amos, I think? It could have been anyone really. My eyes were _really_ screwed up.

"Hey Savanna, where'd my glasses go?" I asked. She reached her arm over to the side table of my animal-hide bed, and handed me a little shiny blur that I assumed to be my quarry. I grabbed them by the bridge- which now had a thick strip of tape around it, I noticed- and brought them up to my eyes. The results were _mighty_ disappointing.

"Sweet Jesus, what happened to these guys?" I asked, squinting through the cracked right lens. The aluminum frames were badly bent, the tape in the middle made the already tight-fit even worse, and they now sat lopsided on my face… I was surprised that the poor things hadn't just given up and disintegrated into their base atoms.

"You got kicked in the face, remember? I did my best to put them back together but they're sort of beyond the point of repair," said Savanna. I patted her on the leg, or arm, or something squishy, I think, and tried to sit up.

"Agghh… It's fine. Do you got my medical bag here?"

"Mhm."

"Good. Fill up the sterile metal tray with some Stimpack liquid, draw it out with one of them little plastic squeezer-things," I said, making a little squeezing motion with my fingers. Savanna stood up from the bed.

"It's called a pipette, and what do you need that for? You aren't about to try to drip into your brain or something, right?" She asked, nonetheless following my instructions and squirting a little puddle of Stimpack liquid into the tray. At least, I assume that's what she was doing, based on the sound of water dripping on metal. Could've been doing a lot of things, come to think of it.

"Aw, hell no. Can you hand me one of em real quick? This'll be easier if I don't think about it," I said. Savanna nodded.

"Fine. But don't hurt yourself please." She handed me a clear plastic pipette filled with red liquid, and I plucked it from her hand with my two pointer fingers and my thumb. I removed my glasses, and squeezed a drop into one of my eyes.

For a brief moment, I could feel my eyeball freezing in its socket as the Stimpack liquid washed over it, coursing over the lens and through the nerves like the worst brain freeze you can possibly fucking imagine. I grit my teeth and squeezed the rest into my other eyeball, before I could yellow-belly out. I suffered through the healing process for an excruciating twenty seconds before that feeling finally began to subside, and my vision returned; The double images formed together to create one, blobs of color gained outlines and features, all that good stuff. I lowered my glasses over my newly repaired eyes, and squinted through them. The glasses also improved the image, although my newly regained eyesight really just meant that I could see the spider web of cracks in my right lens in high-definition. I stretched out my arm and handed Savanna back the pipette.

"Better?" She asked. I nodded gingerly.

"Yeah. Headache's better too, 'least on the inside. Headphones are starting to hurt though." Savanna moved to take them off my head, but I stopped her. "Nah, I'll just put up with it. If I take em off, I'm gonna have to listen to point-blank bluegrass, and If I had to do that, I might just kick the bucket after all…" I heard someone make an indignant noise off to the left.

"Excuse me, but bluegrass is easily the _second_ best form of music ever invented!" said Amos, grinning at me from across the cramped medical tent. I smiled back.

"Oh, howdy Amos! I'm Isaac, and I'm-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you're the guy who took the bullet out. Mum wouldn't shut up about how we're all going to hell now," he said, in an oddly un-accented voice. Come to think of it, he sounded a lot like Savanna! He took a sip of his soup. "Mm. Thanks, by the way! I feel kinda funny, but I can move again, and one of the twins told me I would've died if you didn't operate. Oh, and that stuff that you put in my back- that stuff knocked me _right_ out, and I'm still not feeling anything back there. So, thanks for that too!"

My face turned white. "You- you were awake, before I put the morphine in? Like, you were actually seeing things?" I asked. He nodded.

"A little here and there. I couldn't really hear, but I could feel it when people touched around my head. I felt the tube down the throat too, but I don't think that my gag reflex was working, because it didn't feel _that_ weird."

I nodded vacantly. "Huh. Well, you're welcome." I paused. "You, uh, you said you were feeling funny- why don't I come in for a secondary assessment tomorrow, and see if there's anything else I need to do? You had some pretty gnarly wounds."

Amos laughed. "Yeah, I heard! Did you actually hold my back open? Like, right through all those muscles, cutting my spine with a bone saw?" asked Amos. I frowned.

"Wait, a bonesaw? Jesus, who told you about the details? I mean, I'm not really gentle, on account of having Stimpacks and all, but I wasn't _that_ brutal." I scratched my chin, and stared at Amos. It was… surreal, seeing what I had basically been looking at as a living corpse, demonstrating actual feelings and being generally nice and lively again. It made me feel warm inside. For the first time since the McBain situation, I felt like I had _actually_ saved someone from a fate that they didn't want.

"Dude, would you quit asking him about the surgery and get some rest? Mum's gonna throw a fit if she sees you up and talking," said Savanna. Amos snorted.

"Yeah, especially with the _sinner_ over here! I'll bet she'd be even angrier if she saw how you were being with him." Savanna narrowed her eyes.

"What do you mean, " _How I was being with him?_ " He just got a concussion, of course I'm worried!" Amos laughed.

"Oh come on! Don't lie, you were all, ' _Oh god, not my poor, sweet basket of eggs!_ ' and then getting all flustered because he did something nice for you-"

"I was angry because he did something _stupid!"_ Shouted Savanna. Amos shook his head smugly.

"Nope. I refuse to be convinced- there is _no_ way that you two aren't hooking up nightly!" Savanna's glare was so intense now that I was expecting her to start shooting out eye-lasers and burning through the wall. Amos appeared to be reveling in it.

" _Cào nǐ zǔzōng shíbā dài!_ You're just- you are the _worst!"_ Sputtered Savanna, her face practically glowing red with embarrassment and anger. I think that both me and Amos were surprised, because we shared a sheepish look at each other from across the room. " _What the hell did she just say?"_ I mouthed. Amos shrugged bewilderedly.

"Come on Isaac, let's go somewhere quieter- If I have to stay with him any longer, I'm going to put _another_ bullet in his spine," she said, grabbing me by the arm and helping me up out of bed. Amos raised his hand helpfully.

" _Or,_ you could give me more of that sleep-stuff, and stay here! I promise I won't complain!" I groaned.

"Does Morphine addiction run in the family or something? I swear, Savanna had the exact same response when I first gave her the stuff!" I joked, letting my voice go a bit louder than was comfortable. It didn't hurt as much as I expected, and the weird pressure inside my head wasn't so bad now.

"I'm not an addict! _Dad_ was an addict, I'm just curious!" Savanna kept dragging me forwards.

"Goodnight, Ame! I hope you choke on your soup!" said Savanna, pulling me towards the tent flaps. Amos put a hand over his heart.

"Not even a hug? Well, It was nice to see you again too, Savvy!" If there had been a door there, Savanna probably would have slammed it behind her as we stepped out into the dark, bluegrass-infested night.

"Where are we going?" I asked, leaning on her shoulder to avoid falling over. She pointed up to one of the surrounding cliffs.

"Up there. Just follow me, alright?"

I nodded and trailed behind her, pressing my loose headphones against my ears so that I didn't have to hear the bluegrass. As we got farther away from the light of the campfire, I started stumbling every once in awhile; I don't see too well in the dark. Savanna must have noticed that I was having problems, because after the fourth almost-fall, she grabbed my hand again and laced her fingers with mine. Savanna seemed to know where all of the rocks and bumps were, which happens to normal people when they live somewhere for a long time, I guess. I had a good memory, but my bad eyesight led to me glossing over the finer details of most places.

We were really close to the wooden gates of the village now, and the distant bonfire no longer provided enough light to see. I checked the battery on my pip boy: _13%_. I'd left my backup fusion battery in my medical bag, because if someone were to hit it really hard during a fight, it might _literally_ atomize me. I wasn't really sure on the specifics, but when father gave it to me, he had warned me over and over that it was to be kept in a safe, non-volatile environment at all times. Since I didn't have that on me, I was reluctant to waste battery on the flashlight. I kept stumbling behind Savanna as she led me up a steep, smooth hillside made of some sort of cool stone, which would be unscalable if it weren't for the little footholds that had been dug out in the stone.

Going up the steep, chilly cliff face, I felt something strange in my stomach; I had gone hiking (read: hill-climbing) with Mom before, but there was something different about this. It felt dangerous, for sure, but also kinda… euphoric? Maybe that ain't the right word, but I definitely felt something other than cold fear while climbing up that primitive ramp with Savanna.

"How do you reckon this got here?" I asked, brushing my hand over one of the generously-sized footholds. Savanna shrugged.

"No one around here really knows. I heard some passing ghoul call this the, "Indian Staircase," once. He was coming by with a friend to see the nature reserve, sort of like Gram. I didn't ask him about it, but I'm pretty sure that when pre-war people say, 'Indian,' they're talking about the natives here. So, if I had to guess, a native tribe probably carved it before the war," she replied, pulling me up and helping me find the next foothold. I nodded.

"Yeah, mom always called 'em, " _Native Americans_." Apparently, there's an actual country called India, sort of over by China, and she thought it was stupid to call people who weren't from India Indians," I recounted. We were nearing the top of the staircase now, and I was beginning to wonder why she'd brought me up here- as thrilling as it was, we were _really_ high up. I mean, I guess you're just as dead whether you fall from sixty feet or a hundred and sixty, but _still._

"Alright, when we get up to the top, don't turn around. Make sure that you've cleared the top completely- trust me, it'll be worth it," said Savanna, grabbing onto some shadowy object that was jutting out of the hilltop. I had no problem with that- my gaze was fixed _firmly_ on the stony ramp. I saw Savanna pulling herself over the edge.

"Help me up?" I asked. Savanna extended an arm, and I took it.

"Careful not to slip. It's a long way down," she replied, bracing herself against the shadowy object and pulling me up on top of the hill. Per her instructions, I didn't turn around. "Good. Now, just stay right there while I get the lights!"

I heard some clicking and humming in the dark. A few seconds passed silently, until a previously invisible row of small, multicolored lights flicked on with a quiet thrum. The light was dim, but it was enough for me to make out the features of the environment; we were on a small, flat plateau, atop the leftmost cliff-face. If I moved a few feet forward, I would be under the shelter of a large sandstone overhang where the buzzingChristmas lights hung, their shiny green wires wrapped around the dozens of tiny stalactites. Near the back of the overhang, I spotted a faded red traveling trunk, a little green bedroll, and the remains of a campfire. Savanna plopped herself down on the bedroll and patted the space beside her.

"Sit down here, you'll get the best view," said Savanna, waving for me to come over. I raised an eyebrow.

"Best view of what- the village?" I asked. She shook her head.

"Nope. Just sit, you'll see in a second."

I plodded through the dim light and sat down where she directed, still facing the wall. Savanna laughed.

"The other way, dummy," she said, in a voice that let me know that she wasn't actually calling me stupid. I turned around, and let the glowing image of the horizon sink in: _a giant needle that pierced the sky, surrounded by a spider-web network of towers and glowing yellow dots in the dark._ For each of those dots, there must have been a hundred bright burning souls, gambling and laughing and drinking and _living._

For the first time in my journey, I was finally looking at the glowing skyline of New Vegas.

"It's beautiful," I said, even though it was obvious. Savanna reached for my hand, and I let her take it. "Have you shown anyone else this?"

"Just you- Amos is scared of heights, and no one else in this village goes up here. They think it's a place of sin." We stared out at the glowing city before us for a moment. Neither of us had to say how we felt about _that_ idea; the shining view spoke for itself.

"It was strange. For the longest time, I had given up hope that I'd ever belong anywhere. Then, one night, I came up here to watch the stars come out, and everything changed- that needle over there, which had never been anything but another landmark to me, started _glowing._ Brighter than the stars, brighter than the moon; Red, at first, then green, then blue. It cycled through all the colors on the visible light spectrum, and I just sat there, watching. I didn't laugh, or smile, or cry. I set my jaw with resolve." She stared off at the needle for a moment. Her big brown eyes glowed with the reflection of New Vegas. "For the first time in my life, I knew where I had to be."

"That why you joined up with Gram?" I asked. Savanna nodded.

"Pretty much. I knew that if I ever wanted to go to New Vegas, I needed to get out as soon as I could, and I needed a sponsor for when I got there. I've still never been, but now that Gram's retiring, he's going to find me a place there and cut me loose. I serve my end of the deal, he serves his." She moved her hand up my arm. "I don't suppose that you'd want to come with me…?"

"I would love to!" I interjected, before she started trying to justify. She looked taken aback, but then she smiled. I started stroking her fingers. "I'll have to sort some things out with my mom, get her treated. But, once I've gotten her what she needs, I won't have nothing else stopping me."

"That's good- and, if you change your mind, that's okay too. I mean, we only met a few days ago. But, I've definitely never felt this way about anyone before, and I've heard that that's a good sign, so…"

"I think I understand," I said. Savanna nodded graciously.

"I knew you would." We watched the Lucky-38 cycle through colors a few times, like a sideways rainbow. Eventually, Savanna stood up, and offered me her hand.

"Want to dance?" she asked. I looked at her inquisitively.

"To what?"

"Take off your headphones! I don't know if you can hear it, but they're playing a really nice slow song down there." I regarded her suspiciously. "Don't worry, it isn't very loud. You can only hear the general tune of it."

Carefully, I slipped off my headphones, and, sure enough, the music was pleasantly quiet. It was sort of catchy, too- Not disco-music catchy, but the kind of catchy that you could idly strum a guitar too. I dropped my headphones on the bedroll, and let Savanna pull me to my feet.

"Do you know how to do a waltz?" asked Savanna. I shook my head. I didn't know how to do _any_ sort of dance, besides the one that father had always affectionately called the "Seizure Shuffle," which was the name that he gave the weird, vaguely harmonic movements I made while listening to music. I was always scared that if I tried to dance, I'd trip over my own feet or run out of energy, and end up doing what my father liked to call the, "Postictal pirouette." I don't think I need to explain that one.

"That's alright. Just follow my movements- dancing is better when you just sort of go with it," she said, grabbing me by the hands and putting some distance between us. I nodded. _Go with it. That's what I usually do, right? I could go with it!_

She began to move, and I began to follow. She would move forwards and left, then backwards and right, pausing and going with the rhythm. The song, which was played with Banjos and drums and violins and harps, started to pick up speed, and I began to hear some deep voices and a hint of harmonica chiming in behind the rest of the music. We picked up speed with the music, shuffling our feet and bringing our bodies closer and closer together in the dim glow of the Christmas lights. We'd started off holding each other's hands, but as we got more comfortable we both put one hand on the other's back. I began to hum along.

"Y'know, this ain't so hard," I said. Savanna smiled and raised her arm above her head, which I hadn't expected _at all._ I tried to move myself out of the way, then remembered that we were dancing, and started panicking- by the time that I realized she was trying to spin me around, I was already headed for the floor.

I braced myself to hit the smooth stone of the ground. Of course, the impact never came; I remained suspended in Savanna's arms, glasses dangling off my face as I stared down at the floor. Savanna let out a sigh of relief, and turned me around so I was facing her. She looked so beautiful, with all the little lights shining on her skin. It reminded me of the dinner that we'd left behind.

"Are you okay?" She asked. I nodded.

"Yeah." I kept staring at her face. ' _How didn't I see it when I met her?'_ I wondered, as the tip of her nose brushed against the tip of mine, ' _How'd it take me more than a moment to see how amazing she was?'_

"Are you sure?" She asked, frowning. If I told her yes, I'd be lying, because I was actually having a problem- I didn't know how to tell her what I was feeling. It wasn't a new problem, but I'd never had it like _this_ before.

"I'm fine- I just… I think that you're awfully pretty!" I blurted out. _Not quite._ I decided to correct myself.

"I'm sorry- you're beautiful. That's what I meant to say."

Savanna's forehead was pressed against mine now. I guess I was sort of leaning on her, except that she was holding me in her arms. She brushed a hand over my cheek.

"You too. Handsome, I mean, not beautiful. Well, both I guess. I don't know." I felt her breath wash over my face. It smelled like dinner.

"It's okay," I told her. We were both silent for a moment as the song in the background came to an end. For a few seconds, the only noise was the blowing of the wind.

"Do you want to kiss?" I asked. She smiled again.

"Yeah."

We both closed our eyes, and opened our mouths a little. Then, we pressed our lips together, and I felt her squeezing me against her as hard as she could, and we kissed like a happy young couple in one of those stupid pre-war movies.

Have you ever stood there and thought to yourself, ' _Life will never get any better than this,_ '? I'd always avoided thinking that in the past, because I was usually wrong. But, in that moment, alone on a starlit hilltop with Savanna, I found myself thinking it anyways.

_Sometimes, life ain't so bad after all._

**[+] END OF ARC 2.**


	16. The Promise

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**Time: 05:31**

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"...And this is the Atlas- Lets you nod up and down, and helps hold your head up. It's this first bump right under your occipital, right about… here," I said, brushing aside Savanna's messy black hair to press my fingers against her Atlas. I felt her head nod against my chest.

"Mhm. What's the one under it do?"

"That one has this sorta stick that lets your atlas turn sideways, which I bet is why it's called Axis. I've still got no idea why they call that first one Atlas, though, cause it don't really look like a map to me." Savanna just laughed. Her breath felt warm against my skin.

"That's because you're thinking about it wrong! The word came from some ancient mythology, where Atlas was this big angry dude who held the world on his shoulders; That's how those books of maps got their name. They probably call it your Atlas because it's holding your, 'globe,' up," explained Savanna, head still pressed firmly against my body. I thought about that for a moment, then smiled as comprehension dawned on me.

"Oh! Father made me read this pre-war book with him called, "Atlas Shrugged," once- God, I hated that book, but that name makes so much more sense now! Because, like, the workers did the whole protest thing, where they shrugged off the- the…"

Suddenly, I realized that I was probably being obnoxious and trailed off. I looked down at Savanna, who was staring up at me with her big brown eyes and smiling patiently. Hoping to play it off, I rested my chin on her head again, and got back to stroking her neck.

"Anyways, that's the top two. The ones under it don't have cool names, so they're just named after their section and number." I paused. "Well, except for the Sacrum and coccyx, I guess. But, I never call it a coccyx cause that sounds stupid, and the sacrum is kind of its own thing."

"Where's the coccyx?" Asked Savanna, with a look on her face that told me that she knew exactly where her coccyx was. I kissed her on the forehead, started running my hand down her back, careful not to press too hard on the angry red patches of skin along the way. I could feel her breath flutter as I touched my fingers against her tailbone.

"Down here."

We kissed again, and then held our foreheads together and stared into each other's eyes for a while. She looked sort of like she had one eye when our heads were pressed that close, which made me giggle and look away.

"What's so funny?" she asked, pretending to sound hurt. I pressed my pointer-finger against her glabella.

"You're a cyclops!"

"What?"

"Here, put your head here again, like this- do you see it now?" Savanna started grinning from ear to ear. She didn't usually smile with her teeth like that, but I always liked it when she did, because it made my heart feel like it was taking a warm bath. The same probably couldn't be said for my smile but I was wearing it anyways.

"Why are we still awake? It's gotta be at least 3AM if we aren't drunk and we _both_ found that funny," said Savanna. I reached my arm over to check my pip boy.

"One second… oh, _Jeezum Crow_ , it's 5:33! It's basically morning now!" As soon as the pip-boy's bright-green screen turned on, Savanna rolled onto her other side and pressed her face into her pillow. I didn't notice at first, but then she started writhing and making angry noises.

"AaaAAAhhhh, turn it off! Turn it off!" she muttered, covering her face with her hands. I scrambled about trying to hit the glowing red power button for a few seconds, before giving up and tipping the screen into the blanket. I heard Savanna sigh with relief. "Augh, thank you! How did that not hurt your eyes?"

"I barely felt anything! How come it hurt yours?"

"I don't know- my theory is that it was really bright, and its three in the morning-"

"Five in the morning."

" _Five_ in the morning, and you're a _dumb egg_!" shouted Savanna, pressing her face into her pillow and jabbing her finger in my general direction. I snorted with laughter.

"Um, _Pardon?_ " Savanna elbowed me in the gut.

"You heard me, you dumb egg! Not everyone has invincible eyeballs like you!"

"Yeah, I think that the proper term is, "broken." Damn things hardly even work," I replied, rubbing at my poor, "invincible," eyes. Savanna peeked her face out of her pillow to look at me.

"Really?"

"You bet! I'm nearly blind as a bat past like, ten feet. The glasses help, but those are a little bit broken right now."

"And you don't even have echolocation! How do you manage?" I put on my serious face.

"Bold of you to think that I can't use echolocation, Savanna; that's actually one of my many mysterious _autism-powers_ , just like my perfect memory, and my super-genius detective skills! Depending on the writer, I might even be able to magically visualize people's organs and shit!" I replied, deepening my voice and waving my hands magically. Savanna started laughing.

"Your- what? ' _Autism powers?'_ What are you even making fun of?" I did my magical hand wave again.

"Making fun of? No one! Are you doubting the potency of my autism powers?" Savanna shook her head fervently.

"Oh, never! I was only wondering how I didn't notice them sooner. What are some of your other- your…" Apparently unable to say it out loud, Savanna held in a laugh and looked away. I continued to look dead serious. "… your _autism,_ powers? God, you're so, _so_ weird _!"_

"Well, let's see: According to this one movie, I'm supposed to have human-calculator powers, and be able to count up to these ungodly high prime numbers. I feel like some other one made the autistic dude an animal whisperer- maybe it was the same one?" I thought about that for a second, then nodded. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure it was the same movie. 'Course, that one didn't even _mention_ my greatest power of all."

"Oh?"

"Yeah- my obvious sex appeal! Rain-Man ain't got nothing on that!" Savanna groaned. I flashed her a shit-eating grin. "I mean, pretty much every lady I meet swoons as soon as I show them all the used gloves and IV catheters in my pockets. Ain't that right?"

"Mm. I gotta admit, I've got a soft spot for professionals..." Savanna batted her eyes and traced a finger over my chest. Her smile told me she was joking, but I still felt my pulse quicken.

"Quickest way to a girl's heart is through her third intercostal space, right?" I retorted. Savanna planted a kiss on my forehead.

"I'll take your word for it. After all, it didn't take you very long to find mine."

The moon was setting on the horizon by now, and the sun was finally peeking up from behind the valleys and canyons in the distance. Squinting in the faint orange sunlight, Savanna pulled me closer and put her head on my shoulder, letting her hair tumble over my collarbone and neck. She had nice hair; I decided to run my fingers through it,

"Thanks for this. It's been too long since I opened up to anyone, and now that I'm doing it… I'm glad that it's like this. And, I'm glad that it's with you," said Savanna, warm skin all pressed up against mine. For some reason, I'd always thought that snuggling with someone who wasn't wearing all of their clothes would _burn,_ so I was still marveling at how pleasant it was to have her body touching mine. Kind of made me want to take off the rest of my clothes, but I felt like that might have been crossing a boundary, both for me and for her. I _really_ liked Savanna, but we had only known each other for like, a week, and a lot of couples that I'd known had avoided anything remotely resembling sex until they'd tied the knot. I wasn't that much of a prude, ( _contrary to popular belief, autism doesn't keep you from being a hormonal teenager,_ ) but I also didn't want to rush nothing. Plus, if she saw too much of me, she might start asking about my bruises and my patches of rubbery skin and stuff, and that'd spoil a good night.

"Aw, you're good! Thanks for taking a chance on me- I know that I'm a strange fella, and that you've had some bad experiences with people in the past, but…" for a few seconds, I struggled to form a proper sentence. _Words are hard._ "… _But_ , you decided to trust me anyways. And I don't know if I would have made it here without you taking me under your wing like you did."

Savanna made a noise of acknowledgment as we watched the sun rise together, feeling it soak into our bare skin. I could see Savanna a lot better in the morning light than I could in the dim glow of the old Christmas bulbs, which I think helped to make the whole thing feel _real_ for me. Since we first kissed, I'd been having this weird feeling, like it was all some fleeting dream, and I was going to wake up from it at any second. Seeing her lying beside me in the morning light assured me that this was true.

That's a funny feeling, you know? Usually, when I get that sort of feeling, it's because someone died.

"Isaac… Can you promise me something?" asked Savanna, suddenly breaking the silence. I nuzzled the top of her head.

"Of course," I murmured. Savanna tightened her grip on me.

"So, this is going to sound weird, but please, just hear me out. If I don't get this off my chest now, I'm going to regret it," she continued, which really got my attention. I nodded solemnly. She'd moved her head from my shoulder to look at me, and I could tell from the way her eyes looked that she was worried; My pulse kicked up again as I began to wonder what this was about.

"I want you to promise me that you aren't going to die, or leave, or do any of those things that everyone else is always doing. Because, if you die, I will never be able to put it behind me, and if it's out of some misguided attempt at helping me, I will _never_ forgive you _."_

I blinked.

" _Oh_ ," I replied. I saw Savanna's face fall. "Uh, sure! Of course! I guess I'll try not to die?" Savanna shook her head.

"Not good enough. I need you to _promise_ me that you're going to make it out of this in one piece."

I looked away, and stared into my pillow for a while. _Could I really promise that?_ I'd nearly bitten the dirt on her account literally the night before, and, although I had regretted the circumstances, I knew immediately that I'd be willing to do it again. Not just for Savanna, but for anyone who I cared about- I was already risking my life for my mother's sake, and I could probably be convinced to tackle Tandi or Gram out of the way of an oncoming train or something. When I'd heard about how Mr. McBain had been shot, I was nervous, but also absolutely ready to dodge some lead if it came down to it. When a legion assassin had come to kill us, my basic instinct had even been to stop everything and help him, despite Gram's credible warnings about reinforcements….

So, just based on my previous track record, I wondered how sincere my promise would be. I already had quite the history of throwing myself into the thick of things, and now Savanna was asking me to promise that I wouldn't. I started shaking my head.

"Well, I don't know. Life is kind of crazy, and, I can try, but-"

"Isaac, _please!_ I need you to do this," interrupted Savanna. I sighed.

"... Well, alright. Fine. I promise you that I won't die. I won't even do any more dangerous stuff for you, if it's last night that's got you all worried about this," I replied, meeting Savanna's eyes and speaking as sincerely as I could manage. ' _And if I do get bumped off, then I guess it won't really be my problem no more,'_ I wanted to add, but I bit my tongue. I could feel Savanna's muscles relax as she put her head against my shoulder again.

"Thank you."

A few more minutes passed in relative silence. There were so many things that I wanted to say, now that I had time to think about it- so much that I wanted to reassure her about, voice my concerns over… But, she looked so happy now, with her hair all messed up and her head snuggled up against my shoulder, and I would have hated to screw that up. I stroked her head.

" _I promise._ "

Savanna didn't respond to that. I tapped her on the cheek to see if she would say anything, and she didn't; I guess she was asleep, which was also fine by me. Filled with all sorts of mixed emotions, I pulled her tight against me and gave her a quick buss on the top of her head, then let her go. We'd have to get up _eventually,_ I knew, but in the meantime, I had no problem sleeping in with her. I set the alarm on my pip-boy for 10-o-clock, plugged it into the backup energy cell, and let my mind wind down again.

It was a crazy road that lay ahead. And, as much as I like to talk shit about God and his various decisions regarding my life as his chewing toy, I was thankful to Him, or to _someone,_ for that morning.

-Break-

"Well, Amos, everything checks out- your nervous system appears to be in good working order, and the muscles in your back are healing correctly. Assuming that you're willing to relax for a few weeks while your body recovers, then I hereby declare you, "ready to go!"

Amos looked up at me from his soup bowl and smiled. I smiled back, because it still felt good to see a happy, healthy outcome for a patient. Looking back, I hadn't performed the surgery perfectly- I could have been much less intrusive, and I could have let my partners handle more- but, I was nonetheless proud of the result.

"That's awesome! But I do have one quick question- when these painkillers wear off, how much is it going to hurt?" asked Amos, laying down the bowl of soup on his bedside table. Immediately, I looked away; the answer to that question was not one that I'd wanted to give. During the surgery, I'd junked up a whole bunch of major back muscles with my primary incision alone, and cut through some very sensitive tissue around where the bullet struck. I'd also interacted directly with his spinal cord, damaged and regenerated several thoracic nerves and, most painfully, used MED-X to regenerate a damaged CNS structure...

In short, Amos was in for a nasty surprise.

"Like Hellfire. After the opiates stop working, you're probably going to feel some of the worst pain of your life. You might get some weird sensory problems too- unexplained tastes, loss of hearing or sudden noises, blindness…" Amos had started eating his soup again, sipping it from the bowl like some sort of fine wine. He didn't look concerned.

"Mm. Well, I didn't have any plans for the next few weeks, so that's a-okay with me. Any chance you could leave me some of that morphine?" I shook my head solemnly.

"Sorry, but that stuff is super dangerous, and I don't trust anyone here to measure doses. I don't really get the impression that these people are used to handling stuff that can kill you if you're off by a gram, and I _guarantee_ you that they don't know how to treat an overdose."

"Hey- I am, "these people," and I take offense to that! Our mason's allowed to use an abacus, and I'll bet that at least _one_ person knows how hypodermic needles work," said Amos, indicating the empty morphine syringe on the table. I frowned.

"Well, maybe you have a competent mathematician for dosing, and maybe you have someone who can actually apply the medicine, but I don't really see how-"

"I'm joking, Isaac. You're probably right."

In my head, I sighed with relief. Given who Amos had grown up with, I don't know why I was even worried; I guess I just didn't know his sarcastic voice very well yet.

"Oh. Well, I'm real sorry about the pain. What you're going to feel is mostly your body healing itself at the cellular level with the Stimpack-juice, if that helps any. You'll feel a lot better once it stops." Amos nodded, and chugged down the last of his soup. Once he had drained the last of the delicious-smelling broth, he casually tossed the bowl at the bedside table, only to miss completely and fling it directly against the floor. On impact, the bowl clattered off the bent planks, and then rolled around on its rim for a few seconds. We both watched it with idle amusement as it traveled briefly under Amos's bed, and then right by my foot, before finally coming to a stop against the metal leg of Amos's bed. Amos gave a defeated sigh.

"Well, this is gonna suck. How long is the pain going to last?" He asked, staring up into the ceiling. I shrugged.

"Two days, maybe three. You'll be aching for a while after that, but that'll go away with movement. You ever had the uh, influenza before? The flu?" Amos nodded into his pillow. "Well, you'll probably feel that sorta… malaise, that you get when you've got the flu, where your bones feel kinda hollow. Like I said, the best thing you can do to fix that is gettin' lots of fluids, eating shit with vitamins in it, and doing some real easy, stretchy-kind-of exercise. It's gonna be rough, but Stimpacks are real good at what they do. This will _literally_ cure aches that you didn't know you had!"

"That sounds good! At least I have something to look forward to, eh?" replied Amos, giving me a goofy-looking grin as he stared down his prognosis. I nodded sympathetically.

"At least."

There was an awkward pause where I could hear the hand-built, radium-painted clock ticking over Amos's bed. It reminded me of the great-war era watch that my father always had fob-pinned to his coat, with its glowing green numbers and little Red Cross under the center dial. His had been blasted apart in the shooting, but I'd always wanted to get a similar one. Maybe when we got to New Vegas, I could find someone who sold them...

"And, um, Isaac-" I looked back up. Amos was pointedly avoiding my gaze. "Thank you. Really. You're probably going to deny this, but I think that you're a hero for what you did."

"Oh, you shut your daggum mouth!" I replied. I started walking over to his bed. "This is just what I do. Don't feel you like you owe me somethin', cause you don't- just promise me to be careful, and to... try to be happy, and stuff. I don't know. Do you want a hug?"

Amos nodded earnestly. Careful not to trip over the soup-bowl on the floor, I leaned over the bed and pulled Amos into a loose but meaningful embrace, then carefully let him back down before I could accidentally snap his spine or something; I wasn't risking nothing after the incident in Sloan.

"...And, in case you didn't know, there's another reason I did it, that I hadn't mentioned- you know your sister, Savanna?" Amos nodded good-heartedly, despite my wording.

"Yeah, I've met her a few times," he replied. I tried not to look embarrassed.

"Yeah- well, I was hesitant to try this, since I might've just made things worse. But, she really wanted me to try, and she's got this weird thing where she can convince me to do pretty much anything, so…" I waved my hands at him. He looked amused. "...Here we are. She's as much to thank as I am. Did you thank her when she visited you?"

"Of course! She didn't really bring it up, but I thought she might have something to do with it." Suddenly, Amos started grinning. He'd been avoiding eye contact up until then, but now he was looking right at me. "Aaannnddd… Speaking of Savanna, what's up with you two? I can't get a straight answer out of her, but you act like you're dating."

_Oh, that was it._ I tried to think of something to say.

"We're… trying something out?" He grinned.

"I'm dying for details!"

"Well, I don't know- we kissed a lot and shared a sleeping bag last night, so I guess that means we're dating now. Right?"

Amos covered his mouth and looked at me with wide-open eyes. I didn't really get why, but, then again, I'd never had a sister before, so I wasn't aware that you _aren't supposed to say these sorts of things_ to your girlfriend's brother! Thankfully, Amos was a good sport. He got back to smiling pretty quick.

"Well, thank you for that _wonderful_ imagery! Good God, are you serious?" I nodded bashfully. Amos shook his head. "Man, that is _weird_ to think about. Why are you going out with that dork?"

"Because I like her? I mean, Savanna is just so…"

"Uptight and nerdy?" suggested Amos. I squinted my eyes at him like I was angry.

" _Well_ , I was thinking more along the lines of, 'intelligent and beautiful,' but I guess that works too." Before I had finished speaking, Amos was already shaking his head.

"Oh my god, maybe Savanna _isn't_ the world's biggest dork!" he laughed, still shaking his head like a disappointed parent. I crossed my arms defensively.

"It's not my fault. If she weren't so damn cute, then maybe I wouldn't like her so much." Amos gave me a weak little punch.

"Oh, perk up- I'm not saying that I disapprove! But, since she's my sister, it's kind of my job to be critical of you. I'm sure that you'll be a great boyfriend!" I tried to let myself relax.

"Thanks. I ain't so sure of that, but I'll definitely try." I paused for a moment, searching for words again. Amos waited patiently while I formulated my next sentence. "I… I really like that girl, you know? I hope she returns my affections."

"Don't worry about it, man! I caught her drawing a picture of you two together in her diary this morning," replied Amos. I looked up from the floor.

"She's got a _diary_?"

"Weird, right? She got all freaked-out and tried to act like it was a barometric graph when I noticed, so try to pretend like you don't know about it. You heard nothing from me, eh?"

"My lips are a vault," I said, closing my eyes and holding my hand over my heart.

_This was a lie._ I was notoriously bad at keeping secrets, so I was probably going to spill everything at the first sign of opposition. But, I'd never think of bothering poor Amos with unfortunate details like that, not when he was under so much stress…

"Ah shit, you're going to tell her as soon as you see her again, aren't you?" I laughed and looked away. "Yeah, don't think I didn't see that devious smile! Man, you must be the worst confidant in history!"

"Not if you don't tell me things!"

"Yeah, in which case you're not a confidant, dipshit!"

"True. But I'm supposed to be- have you ever heard of patient confidentiality?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

" _Too-chay_!"

Outside, the ancient bell that hung above the town-hall played a doleful tune, that I could tell had been performed by hand. I glanced up at the clock above Amos's bed.

"It's noon. We're supposed to be getting out of here in a few minutes," I said, patting down my coat for supplies. _Power cell, charging cable, spare stimpak, utility knife..._

"Well then, I guess I'm not going to keep you any longer. Take good care of my sister, alright? I know that she's incredibly annoying, but I love her anyways," said Amos, tongue resting firmly in cheek. I tipped my helmet at him.

"You know I will!"

I gave Amos a grin and a wave goodbye as I stepped out the door, and into the pleasantly, surprisingly cool air of the village outside. The sky was overcast now, and the even grey light no longer had that same biting quality to it. I sort of wanted to button my coat, or at least pull it together since all of the buttons had been popped off.

"Is Amos alright?" Asked Savanna, who'd been waiting outside for me. I shrugged.

"I dunno. He seems like a pretty cool guy to me, but I've been wrong before..." To my surprise, Savanna actually laughed.

"Well, if he's managed to infect you with his sense of humor, then it can't be _that_ bad! You didn't tell him about us, right?" I smiled guiltily and looked up at the sky. _Oh. Right._ I knew that there was something that I wasn't supposed to do! Savanna already looked thoroughly disappointed, and I hadn't even started speaking.

"...Let's just say that we both disclosed lots of uncomfortable things, and that it's best if we leave it all in the past. Incidentally, I didn't know that you kept a diary!"

" _What?_ No, I don't keep a diary! Who told you that!?" she demanded. I jerked my thumb towards the door.

"Oh my god, I fucking _hate_ that kid. Remind me to never let you two near each other!" Savanna's skin was practically glowing red as she stalked away from me, and towards the main gates of the village.

"Amos said that you did drawings! Do you think I could see any of them?" I asked, because Savanna hadn't taught me about the sunk costs fallacy yet and so I didn't get how stupid I was being. She glared at me over her shoulder.

"Maybe later! Can we just get out of here, before Gram starts taking hostages or something? We're already ten minutes late, and he's still pissed about not getting to see the nature reserve."

"That's fine by me. There's no one else you wanted to see, right?"

"I give you one guess."

And she left it at that. Neither of us spoke again as we walked through the wide-open gates to the village, and back out into the world.

_As was quickly becoming my catchphrase, I can't say that I'd miss the place._

[+]


	17. The Fallout

2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

7102 BYTES FREE

HOLLOW TAPE LOADED: "THE-FALLOUT"

INITIALISING…

SUCCESS!

**STATUS**

Battery Level: 87% (CHARGING)

Wireless Signal: (?)

Operating Temperature: 92F

**HEALTH**

BP: 120/90

SPO2: 100%

Temp: 98.5F

RR: 12

HR: 70

**TIME**

Day: 30 SEP. 2279

Time: 14:24

**CLIMATE**

Current Temperature: 60F

Atmospheric Pressure: 762 mmHG

* * *

_**...** _ _**Nothins' the matter with your head, baby, find it- come on and find it!** _

_**Heyyyy, with it baby, cause you're fine,** _

_**and you're mine and you, look-so-divine… oh-** _

"COME AND GET YOUR LOVE!" We shouted, our unpracticed voices crying out together in glorious unison. The song on the radio rolled on, with me and Savanna's cackling pervading over the staticky audio. _Seemed like everyone was in a better mood since we left the village._

Up at the front of the cart, Gram took a drag of his cigar, and Tandi, who was already way ahead of us, lifted up her helmet to take a swig of some nasty green stuff in a dirty glass bottle. The clicking of Hebe and Flebe's hooves on the cracked concrete gave it all a pleasant backdrop, adding a quiet, consistent sort of rhythm to the chaos. And then it got filtered through my noisy comtacs, and washed out by the rim of my fire-helmet, which gave it all a real surreal feeling. If it weren't for the slight chill in the air, it would have felt like a dream.

"Hey, Isaac- Get over here! Need to talk to you!" shouted Tandi, suddenly breaking the atmosphere with her heavily filtered voice. She sounded less enthusiastically American than usual, which I took to be a bad omen.

"... I'll be right over!" I replied. I blanched at the way the words came out my mouth; I couldn't quite hide the fear in my voice. Tandi didn't say anything in response. She just stared at me through her shiny red visor, standing completely still as I trotted up to her like a spurned toddler. My loose fire helmet bounced with each step. Gradually, the protection that I felt from being near Savanna and Gram faded, and I was left with only the long, cold shadow of our resident desert ranger, looming over me.

I'm gonna be honest- She was a lot less scary _before_ I watched her kill people.

"What did you want to ask about?" I asked, smiling like a stroke victim. Tandi crossed her arms at me.

"We're walking- keep up, or I drag you with me," she replied. Her voice was cool but authoritative, and much deeper than the one that she usually liked to wear. It gave me the creeps.

"So… Is this about the surgery? Because, I've thought a lot about the decisions I made that day, and I- I…" I trailed off. Tandi's lack of any discernible response was far clearer than any words she could have said. We walked in silence for a moment, both of our coats blowing in the cool wind of the valley pass. After deciding that it was safe to speak again, I cleared my throat.

"...Anyways, I'm-"

"Stop talking," Said Tandi. I nodded fervently.

"Right! Of course!" There were a few more seconds of silence. Tandi was still holding the green bottle in her hand, I noticed, gripping it around the neck like a weapon. I shuffled my feet nervously.

"So…?"

"It's not about the surgery. You did your duty, and I acted like a child." Tandi stopped and looked down. She clenched her fists, and, for a moment, I thought that the bottle might break. It didn't. "Sorry for that. When the legion captured me, eight years back, they did terrible things to me-"

"You mean rape?" I asked, then immediately regretted it. Tandi didn't flinch.

"No. They knew it would not break me, so they did not even bother. These were interrogators, officers…" She hesitated. Through the visor, she stared into my soul. "... _A Doctor._ "

_Oh._

"He was a small, pitiful insect of a man. At night he'd come into my tent with a knife and a mallet, and he would put it by my eye, ask me if I wanted this. I never said anything, I was strong- I _am_ strong! So every night, he'd hammer it through my eye and into my brain, until I could feel nothing but pain, and then nothing at all. But I was _**strong**_ _!_ " Her voice cracked. I clenched my fists.

"And then every morning, he would put the needle in, and my mind would come back together! Missing pieces, but together. Never spoke a word, but every night, I came closer and closer to telling him everything…"

I couldn't contain myself any longer.

"THAT- That is why they make us say, 'do no harm,' Tandi!" I shouted. She stayed silent. "They ain't trying to tell us not to defend ourselves, they're trying to keep us from thinking that anything like that is _ever_ okay! It's why we take these stupid goddamn promises!"

From her brief descriptions, I knew exactly what the procedure she was describing was, and it was making me _angry._ I thought about stopping, but, then again, Tandi didn't make any move to stop me...

"See, that man weren't no doctor, just a torturer with a textbook. If you ain't working in the interest of _every single one_ of your patients, then you ain't no doctor! You might practice medicine, but you ain't no doctor, simple as that. No matter how important I think the ends are, I will _never, ever,_ in my whole goddamn life, do _anything_ that is against the interest of my patient! You know why I keep saying sorry to you?" Tandi shook her head. Hands shaking, I pointed at the badge on my chest.

"Because when I said, " _First, I will do no harm_ ," in front of all of those doctors at Dad's funeral, I wasn't really saying that I'd never hurt anyone- I was making a promise to never do what that monster did to you. So, when I did that whole chest-thing, I tried making a choice for you, in what _I_ thought was the greater good, which doctors ain't supposed to do because THAT is how you break your promise! You might think it's right, but if the patient don't, then you better have a _damn_ good case for doing it anyways, because you might be doing something unforgivable. I didn't have a good case- you were alert, I told you the risks, and you were still uncomfortable. I didn't realize it until just now, but that's why I was so freaked out about what I did. I didn't just make a poor decision, I broke a promise, and you're perfectly within your rights to be angry about that. So, I'm sorry about that, and I'm sorry about that son of a bitch who lobotomized you! That ain't what good doctors do, and I don't want you to go worrying that _I'd_ ever do something like that to you, or anyone, ever again! We clear?"

"Affirmative."

Tired and angry and burning with spent emotion, I put my hands on my knees and stopped to catch my breath. At first, I thought that Tandi was going to keep walking without me, but she only took a few short steps before stopping and turning around to face me. I couldn't tell what face she was making under her helmet, but she didn't seem angry anymore. I nodded my head in acknowledgement.

"Thank you." A few more seconds passed in silence. I could hear the caravan starting to catch up behind us, which I knew meant that we had to start moving again. So, I took one last deep breath, straightened my posture, and looked back up Tandi. Before we started moving again, I had one last burning question that wouldn't leave my mind:

"Did you ever get to kill him?"

Tandi snorted at that, which almost made me smile; after hearing her serious voice for so long, it was comforting to hear her laugh a little. She shook her head.

"Not then. Couldn't find him anywhere, the night I got out. I had killed all thirty-six soldiers within the camp by midnight, but no doctors. All he left me with was my broken mind. It took four years before Gram helped me track him down and _put_ him down," said Tandi, a bit of her friendly Texan act slipping back through the cracks as she relaxed. I nodded solemnly; _that explained a lot._

"At least he's dead now. The Followers don't believe in killing bad people, and I ain't supposed to either, but… man, I dunno! Fuck that guy." I straightened my broken glasses and wiped the sweat off of my brow. Tandi took that as a cue to start walking again, and I followed her.

"Glad we agree. But, that is not why I wanted you." Tandi had gone back to her other voice again- the cold, unsettling one, that I could practically feel grating through the speakers of her gas-mask. I didn't like that voice.

"So, if that ain't what this is about, then why did you call me over?" I asked, jogging to keep up with her long-legged gait. Tandi turned her helmet so that her visor was glinting in my eyes.

"We're going to talk about Savanna."

_Oh, shit._ I smiled nervously and clasped my hands together. Tandi didn't stop looking at me.

"Yeah, let's uh, let's _do_ that."

Tandi stuck her hand out to keep me from walking any further. Still not breaking eye-contact (Visor-contact?), she extended all five of her fingers and pointed up towards a big orange rock-formation that was sticking up out of the side of the left face of the valley, forming a steep cliff.

"We're going up there. You walk too slow, and I want to be able to throw you off a cliff if I need to," she said, bending down and putting her helmet uncomfortably close to my face. I nodded stiffly.

"Sounds reasonable."

Neither of us spoke as we trekked off the road and towards the steep hill. The formation, which rested about twenty feet up on the smooth stone hill, was more or less just a funky-looking boulder pocked with holes. The climb to reach the base of the formation wasn't too difficult, because the shape of the hill gave us a natural ramp to climb up to the formation with. Of course, my stomach felt hollow the entire way, because I kept envisioning Tandi knocking me down the rocky slope, but the climb itself was quick and easy.

The rock formation was another story entirely.

"Are we gonna try to climb up using the holes?" I asked, sighting up the giant, protruding boulder before us. Tandi nodded her helmet.

"Get on my back." Before she was even done speaking, she had already dropped down on one knee and arched her back for me. Since I knew that she couldn't see me, I let myself have a little smile as I draped my arms over her shoulders and wrapped my legs around her armored chest- as much as I disliked being short, receiving a piggy-back-ride from the Scourge of Kiev was a definite advantage. There's nothing else like the feeling of being swooped up in the arms of a big strong lady.

"Don't let go," grunted Tandi, as she stuck her hand into the second hole and hoisted herself up. I nodded, bonking the rim of my helmet against hers.

"Yes ma'am!"

With spider-like agility, Tandi climbed her way up the rock formation, navigating the far-spaced holes and crevices like she'd done this a thousand times before. And to be fair, I guess she probably had.

As we neared the top of the formation, an ancient, rusty beer can went tumbling out of one of the holes, and bounced off of Tandi's helmet. My skin got all prickly as I watched it fall thirty-feet straight down the rock formation, and then heard it clink against the rocky hillside below. Seeing something falling from that height, I suddenly remembered that I would most definitely die if Tandi let go of me; I guess I hadn't realized how far up we were.

"Can you let me off at this landing? I think I'm gonna puke," I said, unable to take my eyes off the ground below. Wordlessly, Tandi pulled herself atop the formation, and arched her back to let me fall to my feet. As soon as I hit the ground, my knees gave out, and I fell down on all fours, shuddering. Tandi elbowed me in the helmet.

"We're going to the top. Get up," she said, firmly but not unkindly. I tried to stand up, then fell down onto my butt. Tandi shook her head. " _Civies_ …" I watched with minor trepidation as Tandi latched her hands on to the very-highest point of the formation, and threw her upper body over the top. By the time that she had dragged the rest of her body over, I had managed to regain my balance and stand at the bottom of the impossible thing; there were no handholds, and I just couldn't jump high enough to do what Tandi had done. Reluctantly, I stuck my four-fingered left hand out.

"Hoist me up?"

"Depends- you gonna break my arm this time?"

I laughed humorlessly as Tandi dangled her upper body over the edge and grabbed me by the wrist. I offered her a pitiful little jump, and she pulled me the rest of the way, dragging me up against the bumpy orange rock-face with all the gentleness that you'd expect someone to give to a bag of spuds. It hurt, but the pain wasn't so bad I couldn't ignore it. I scrambled to get my whole body atop the formation, and then stumbled back when I realized how close I was to the edge. I could see the caravan down below. None of them were looking at us, which I guess was what she wanted. _That, and a convenient way to dispose of me._

"Alright, let's- jesus, let's get this over with! What did you wanna ask me about Savanna?" I asked, clutching at my chest and panting with each breath I took. Tandi put her hands on the sides of her helmet and lifted it off her head, bringing the attached gas-mask forward and setting the whole messy contraption on the ground in front of me. She hadn't turned to face me yet, so all I could see of her face was the good side. She didn't _look_ angry, but, of course, there are a lot of kinds of anger, and faces lie.

"Got a lot of questions. You were honest with me on the road, so only some of em are angry." She reached behind her head, and her long, graying-blonde hair went spilling down over her shoulders. Tandi had awfully straight hair- it made me self conscious about the wavy blonde mess on top of my own head, which I'd just poured water on and slicked back that morning. I had no idea how it looked now, but, based on previous experience, it was probably pretty rough.

"Well, fire away- I guess I'll just keep on being honest with you."

My skin was feeling very cold, and not because of the wind that was blowing against it. I was doing my stroke-victim smile again, I realized, and even though she wasn't looking at me, I felt embarrassed.

"First question: What is going on? I am _confused._ Are you still trying to court her, or are you already having sex?" Immediately, I felt the blood rush to my face. I started shaking my head.

"No- no, we ain't doing that kind of thing! I mean, I don't think neither of us would be _opposed_ to it, but we haven't even brought it up just yet!" I said, words flying out of my stupid mouth like a submachine gun. Tandi squared her shoulders.

"So you're _dating,_ but not intimate _? Interesting!_ How long will you wait?" I sighed angrily.

"I- what? What are you asking me? Are you trying to ask me if I'm being nice to her so she'll sleep with me? Because, if you are, I really wish that you'd stop being such a coward about it!" I could feel myself automatically reaching to cover my mouth, but I resisted the impulse; _I'd told her that I would be honest. I never specified what about._ For her part, Tandi didn't seem to be perturbed by my word choice; she just kept looking away from me, scowling at the highway below.

"I am not asking you- I am _suspecting_ you. You've known Savanna for a week, but you done a years worth of stupid things for her. _That_ is the tactic of a pig who wishes to bed a woman!" she grumbled, waving her bottle of absinthe menacingly. I scooted up to be closer to her, and tried to look at her face; she just kept staring into her bottle.

"You wanna know a secret of mine, Tandi?" I asked, after we had been silent for a while. Tandi shook her head.

"I do not."

"Well, I'm gonna tell you anyways, because I think you know it already: I have _no_ clue what I'm doing, ever! That, "Tactic," that you're talking about? I don't know how that works, because I don't know how _any_ of this works! I'm flattered that you think I'm that smart, but mostly all that I do to people is confuse them, and then get confused by them. It sucks, but it means that I can't really do treachery. I'm just doing all this stuff cause it feels right, and cause it seems to make Savanna happy except when it don't, and I really like her a lot. And that's all I have to say about that." I eyed Tandi's bottle of alcohol. Suddenly, it looked _very_ good.

"Could I have some of the stuff in that bottle?" I asked. She shrugged.

"It's absinthe and morphine. Enough to kill a man," she replied, swishing the green liquid around in its bottle. I gave her a wide grin.

"I don't see no problems there."

Tandi turned her head to look at me. I wasn't even surprised by her face this time, probably because I'd been waiting so long to see it. There wasn't a hint of a smile anywhere in her expression, but she wasn't frowning, neither.

"Promise you aren't lying?" She asked. I nodded.

"You have my word- I really care about that girl." Tandi looked at the bottle, then back at me. After a few seconds of tense silence, Tandi threw back her head, emptied the rest of the bottle down her throat, then slammed it down on the ground.

"You probably needed it more than me," I admitted. Tandi wiped her misshapen mouth.

"You're damn right I did."

As an afterthought, Tandi grabbed the bottle by the neck, wound back her arm, and hurled it down into the valley. We both watched with varying levels of amusement as the bottle went careening towards the cart, and exploded into a million pieces right beside Gram's head. Despite myself, I laughed a little.

"Nice shot!" I said, as Gram looked up at us with what I can only imagine was minor annoyance. I saw Savanna wave at us from atop the cart, and I waved back.

"Got lots of practice. I shot a grenade out of the air with a tracer round, once, and I think I made him piss himself..." Tandi chuckled to herself. I don't know if she realized it or not, but she was quickly dropping the scary voice again.

"You know even better than me how stupid that is, so I'm ain't even going to tell you. Did you have any other questions, or can we head down? I'm starting to get _reeaaallll_ lightheaded," I said, tapping my helmet for emphasis. Tandi shook her head.

"None. I hate you, but I don't think that you're gonna hurt her. You ain't a bad man." I nodded solemnly. She broke eye contact, and looked up at the sky. I saw something resembling remorse tugging at her face. "...And, if I get hurt again, you do what you need to do. I trust that you will do your best for me." After that, Tandi pushed herself to her knees, and gestured at her back. I quickly hopped on.

"Don't go thinking we're friends! You're a comrade- I trust you because I have to. You ever hurt my spotter, I will lobotomise you with my bayonet. I love that girl," said Tandi, scooping up her helmet and placing it on her head. I rested the rim of my helmet against hers.

"I hear you loud and clear, " _comrade_." Thanks for not killing me!"

Tandi nodded silently. Neither of us had much to say after that, so we made our way back down the rocks in silence.

-Break-

"What was that all about?" asked Savanna, as soon as we were behind the cart and out of earshot of Tandi. I scratched at the back of my neck.

"Uh, nothing much. She wanted my advice about something… _medical._ " Savanna gave me a very clear, 'quit-your-bullshit' look. I clasped my hands together guiltily.

"She was asking me about us," I admitted, after a few seconds of silent pressure. Savanna looked surprised.

"Us?"

"You know; where we stand, what we're doing. She wasn't sure if she could trust me not to hurt you, so I fixed that. Apparently, me and Tandi are, "comrades," now, which I think is code for, "buddies!" Savanna rolled her eyes.

"No, that's just her trying to pretend like you don't mean anything to her. Gram and I call it the, ' _Comrade-zone_.' Eventually, she'll just admit that you're her friend, and she'll stop threatening to kill you all the time," said Savanna. She kept her voice extra low, because Tandi seemed like she might be looking at us. I nodded absently.

"Sounds cool! Oh, and I found out why I freaked her out so much- did you know that she's gotten herself lobotomized before?" Savanna seemed remarkably unsurprised by my shocking news.

"Yeah, actually. Did she tell you the whole story?" she asked. I shrugged. She sounded more like I'd just asked her about Tandi's weekend fling in Reno, rather than the tragic story of her tortured existence. It was awfully jarring.

"No idea. She told me that a legion doctor screwed up her brain a bunch, and that she didn't get to kill him until four years later, with Gram's help, which I guess is why she's here now." I racked my head for additional details, but couldn't recall any. "Is there anything else to the story?"

"A little bit. I'm not supposed to tell you _any_ of this, but, since she already gave you the basics, this is really her fault. Promise not to squeal?" I looked at Tandi to make sure she wasn't watching, then nodded. Tandi scared me just enough that I _knew_ I could keep this secret. After all, Savanna had kept it from me, and she didn't strike me as a very good liar.

"Alright- the reason that she's so loyal to Gram isn't just because he helped her kill that doctor; It's because he got her all of the therapy that she needed to cope with the trauma. According to Gram, that doctor screwed up her head so badly that when he found her, she could barely hold a conversation without mentally collapsing, or having some sort of identity crisis. So, he spent two years of his life finding and paying professionals who could help her recover, and then another two digging up evidence to help her remember all the things that she had forgotten. He even managed to hijack her a vertibird trip to _Ukraine_ to remind her of the life that she had lived there, which I know cost him most of his money."

"Jeezum crow, how'd she make up for all that? I like Gram, but from my interactions with the man, I don't think he'd do all that for free. He makes contracts with people, right?" I asked. Savanna hesitated.

"... Sort of. Caps run out, so Gram likes to run a business of favors and friendships. I don't know what the formal exchange here was, but, In return for 4 years of his centuries-long life, Gram now has a loyal super-soldier with government connections following him all over the Mojave. So, I'd say that he came out on top with her." Suddenly, the cart stopped moving. We were (finally) exiting the long, grueling valley pass that had led us up to Savanna's village. Now, at the end of the tunnel and down the hill, a new town had presented itself on the horizon; empty, by the looks of it, but surrounded by concealing little foothills and scrapped-out machinery. Savanna and I shared a look.

"Bonnie Springs, right?" I asked, quickly pulling up the map on my pip-boy and showing it to Savanna. She didn't even bother to look at it.

"Yeah. I think that Gram was planning on meeting a contact here." As if on cue, Gram stepped out from in front of the cart, with one hand on Flebe's head and the other on the revolver at his hip. He seemed nervous

"You thought right- I'm supposed to check in here with some undercover NCR lady, to make sure that the delivery's still coming. We ain't exactly on schedule, but we're close enough that she should still be here, and she should be alone- key word being, " _Should."_ Slowly, Gram pulled the revolver out of its holster. He presented it to Savanna grip-first. "Looking down there, I'm getting some bad feelings about this. Watch my back, alright? I'm putting Tandi up behind that boulder up there, so if you spy anything- "

"You're puttin' me _where?_ Thought I was going with you!" interrupted Tandi, suddenly appearing from in front of the cart. It took everything I had to avoid letting out a girly shriek.

"Yeah, you were going with me- right up until I told you to go somewhere else." Tandi lifted up her helmet to give Gram a death glare.

"You think you're safer _alone_?"

"Oh, hell no. I just don't trust these two to not screw up the meeting, and you're more valuable here as a sniper. No offense, you two," replied Gram, looking down and straightening his tweed jacket with both of his hands.

"None taken," said Savanna, and I nodded in agreement. Tandi spat on the ground.

"Fine! But if you die because of this, Gram, it's your own goddamn fault!" And with that, she was off, throwing her helmet back onto her head and striding off out of the valley pass. The three of us that remained shared a brief, silent moment as we watched Tandi move out towards the gentle hill opposite the town.

Eventually, We all started walking again.

" _ **Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk**_

_**That I'm a woman's man, no time to talk…"** _

__  
  
"Would somebody shut that radio up?" asked Gram. Savanna raised her hand.

"On it." I watched Gram pull out half of a ' _Grey Tortoise_ ' cigar from his pocket and light it up as Savanna went up beside the cart, and maneuvered her arm behind the radio. She fiddled around with it for a few seconds before stumbling on the off button, which gave me plenty of time to think about how pretty she looked from where I was standing. Instead of her usual sundress or tunic, she had gone with a matching dark green skirt and blazer, which I think was a good look on her.

" _Sleaze-bucket,"_ mouthed Gram, and I didn't disagree. I just gave him a sly little smile, and made a point of taking Savanna's hand when she turned back around and sidled up next to me. In retrospect, both of us had some pretty gross, sweaty hands, but I still felt like the king of the world whenever we touched.

We were getting close to the edge of the town now. It was kind of difficult to make out the details, but I was sure that it was comprised of less than a dozen buildings, with some rotting wooden telephone poles sticking up from between the decrepit houses. The house closest to us looked like someone had dropped a bus on it, in that charming way that most abandoned buildings look in the Mojave. The rest were in good shape, at least as far as I could see; I was starting to get used to the crack in my right lense, but it was still difficult to focus on small details when there was a big, highly detailed web of broken glass sitting right in front of my eye.

"Well, here we are. Let's keep things hush-hush until we're sure that our lady is here. Is that gat ready to go?" asked Gram, looking at Savanna. She held up the 'gat' in question.

"I don't know. Is the safety on?" Gram nodded.

"It's a Colt Detective, Cook; the safety is always on. I don't _suggest_ dropping it, but if you do, it ain't gonna go off."

"No- I meant, will it fire when I pull the trigger? I don't see any switches on it, so I assume yes?" Gram patted Savanna on the shoulder.

"You got it! I'm gonna head in. You two weirdos just keep walking on this side of the cart, alright? I'm gonna bring it around the bend and go around the back."

Suddenly, at the very edge of my vision, something in the village moved. It was the tiniest little movement, nothing more than a slight blur in one of the windows. Normally, it wouldn't have worried me much, but Gram had me on high alert. Slowly, I turned my head to try to look at the source of the motion.

There was a dark house, with two rusty cars in front, and something resting on the window- _a broken metal bar?_ I stopped walking.

"Hey, Savanna, Is that…?" My breath caught in my throat. _A gun barrel._

Slowly, I looked away. My mostly dormant mind booted up, and got to work figuring out how I was going to survive this.

_If they knew I knew, I was gonna get shot. Gram would be okay because he was behind the cart, but Savanna and I probably wouldn't be very hard to hit._

A few ideas started coming to mind. I could try to signal to Tandi who was hiding up by one of the boulders, assuming that she hadn't already seen him. I couldn't imagine that she _didn't_ see him, actually, so was I just supposed to trust that she was waiting for the right moment?

My heart was racing, and I could feel my vision closing up. Time didn't slow down like I wanted it to. We just kept walking, and I kept watching the gun barrel trace me- no, _Savanna,_ as we came closer and closer to the cars in front of the house. I was on a timer, I knew, and if I didn't act, me and Savanna were dead. That is, unless Tandi did something first, but I couldn't count on that sort of thing. Savanna must have noticed that I was acting weird, because she kept glancing at me as I stilted myself forward, my head locked in position. She squeezed my hand.

"Everything okay?" She asked. I nodded stiffly.

"Yeah. Um, could I hold the gun for a quick second? I want to test something." I put on a fake smile, and tried my best to loosen up my shoulders. Savanna looked at me funny.

"What do you need it for?" She asked. I shrugged.

"Just trust me here. Don't worry, I ain't gonna fire it." My fake smile was so wide and so obvious now that Savanna must have picked up that something was wrong. Hesitantly, she pulled the revolver out of her waistband, and passed it off to me. I swung out the cylinder to make sure that it was full, then casually swung it back in and pointed it off to my left.

"Thanks!" I said, and fired it into the house.

The next few seconds were a blur. I remember shouting and firing another shot towards the house. The Brahmin scrambled, rushing up the hill towards Tandi's position with Gram and the cart in tow. Debris from my shots was still settling around the window frame, and through the dust I could see the dull metal barrel peeking back out. It wasn't far- 30 feet away, maybe less- but it felt hopelessly unreachable, like I was staring at it through a backwards pair of binoculars. I saw a flash and a burst of dust from the window, at the same time as a loud shearing noise right next to my ear. It happened again, and again, and I remember pulling the trigger once more, and the window exploding in a shower of dust and wood chips as the giant gun lit up and snapped against my arm.

For the second time in my life, my survival instincts were kicking into full gear. Based on the angry buzzing noises, my barely functioning caveman brain decided that it was time to seek cover, which presented itself in the form of the two bombed-out cars just in front of us.

Savanna was standing completely still, so I plowed into her with all my weight, knocking her off her feet and sending her stumbling behind one of the cars. I heard an unfamiliar sound like a bunch of wet soil being smacked with a sledgehammer as I tumbled down after her, supersonic whips and cracks stinging the air around me like hornets. As soon as I hit the ground, I scrambled into a crawl and rushed behind the car.

"Oh, holy shit!" I half screamed, half laughed, "Holy fuck, I can't believe I-"

BANGBANGBANGBANGBANG! I shrieked and pressed myself against the rusty blue car as the pavement next to me erupted in a violent shower of concrete and dust and neon green streaks, which made a sound like a jackhammer going right outside my window as the dust and debris crashed against my glasses and face. I could feel something hot on my shirt and pants, and running down my skin. I knew it was blood, and I assumed that it wasn't mine, but I didn't want to think about it. I just kept pressing my head against the sweltering, rusty car door as the bullets came down around me, yanking out chunks of dirt and pavement. A few seconds later, the noise finally stopped, and I felt someone tugging at my coat.

"Isaac! Oh, oh my god, Isaac!" I turned my head to look at Savanna, fully expecting to see her clothes stained red. I could try to fix it, but I only had one Stimpack in my coat, and I had no idea how many times she'd gotten shot. I could feel the walls of my mind closing in as I let my eyes focus on her chest, then her arms, then her legs, then her red, glistening face.

_Not a scratch._

"Wh- what? Are you okay?" I asked, grabbing her by the shoulders and trying to work through the sudden tearing pain in my shoulder to pull her closer to me. She just shook her head, made a strange gagging noise instead of words. _Shot lung? Crushed larynx?_ I dug my nails into her shoulders.

"Savanna, what's wrong? There's all this blood, where the hell'd it come from?"

She didn't say anything. She just brushed my arm off her shoulder, and pointed one shaking finger down at my gut. I glanced down to see what all the fuss was about.

Immediately, my heart sank.

"Oh," I said. The red, volcano-shaped hole was small enough, but it had blown my shirt open and the whole area around it had bruised black. The blood burbled out like a chocolate fountain. Shivering, I fell down to my hands and knees. "Oh, _Fuck._ "

[+]


	18. The Fire

(+)18

2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

10231 BYTES FREE

HOLLOW TAPE LOADED: "THE-FIRE"

INITIALISING…

SUCCESS!

**STATUS**

Battery Level: 100% (CHARGING)

Wireless Signal: (?)

Operating Temperature: 92F

**HEALTH**

BP: 180/90

SPO2: 98%

Temp: 99.5F

RR: 26

HR: 150

**TIME**

Day: 30 SEP. 2279

Time: 15:54

**CLIMATE**

Current Temperature: 62F

Atmospheric Pressure: 762 mmHg

* * *

_Diaphragmatic Parietal Pleura, left lung,_

_Costal Parietal Pleura, right lung,_

_Anterolateral Wall, left Ventricle,_

_Anterior Antrum, stomach...  
_

Those are the places where father was shot. For half a minute, father had drowned in his own blood, thrashing and choking against the stained brick wall before finally succumbing to the blood loss.

I wasn't shot in any of those places- the hole was too low for it to be in my lungs or heart, and I was sure that I'd be puking if my stomach was shot. Still, I couldn't help but run those pictures through my head as I watched the blood streaming out, the same color and consistency as the gutter-fluid shit that had poured out of dad's heart, pulsing with each beat...

"Jesus Christ Isaac, why!? Did I not just tell you that I didn't want you doing any more dumb shit for me!?" shouted Savanna. The pain and adrenaline had made my vision sharp, so I could see the tears coming out of her eyes as she gripped me around the chest and stared down into the hole. Now _I_ wanted to cry.

"I Didn't… Didn't think I was gonna get shot," I muttered, rolling over to put my back up against the car door and pressing my coat against the wound as hard as I could. The dark red blood just kept streaming out, welling up around the edges and spilling over my coat. All that I could feel now was the sharp, inescapable pain in my stomach.

"You'll be alright- it's just one hole, right? I'm not seeing an exit wound! There's no exit!" said Savanna, patting down my back and peeling my bloodstained shirt off of the wound. I didn't dare to look down, but I could feel that my whole chest was covered in blood.

"How much issit' bleeding? Be honest, is it- is it bleedin' bad?" Savanna didn't answer. Carefully, I lifted my hand off of the hole, and watched as the blood burbled out of the wound, staining my skin as it splashed across my stomach. I clamped my jaw shut and closed my eyes.

"It's, it's, it's my liver- Its my liver that's bleeding! Ah, _shit…!_ " There was blood slipping out the corner of my mouth now, because I'd bit my tongue so hard. Savanna was shushing me and trying to wipe it off my cheek, which just smeared it all over my face. She started shaking her head.

"What do I do? You're the medic, what the fuck do I do? I'm freaking out here, Isaac!" I squealed out in pain and looked down at the pavement, where my blood was running between the cracks. I could feel the Stimpack in my coat, and I knew that I had to tell her about it, but I didn't know how, not when my mind was so close to falling apart...

"I'm _dead,_ " I whimpered, sliding down the side of the car and onto my back. Savanna dug her fingernails into my hand.

"No, you're _not!_ Remember what you promised me? You _promised_ that-"

Savanna yelped and fell on top of me as a swarm of bullets crashed against the side of our car, showering us with red-hot shrapnel and neon green spirals and sparks. _Kind of like Star Wars,_ I thought, then remembered the mind-shattering pain. It's funny, the kind thoughts that you have when you're squirming in agony…

"Talk to me, Isaac! Can you talk?" I thrashed my head back and forth, and spit all of the blood in my mouth out onto the pavement. Savanna grabbed me by the sides of my head and tried to make me look at her. "Isaac, listen to me! We're not going to die here- you still need to help your mom, right? Right?!"

"I'm sorry mom!" I sobbed, because now I realized that I couldn't help her when I died. Savanna had given up talking to me now. She was currently rooting through my pockets, apparently oblivious to all of the blood that was getting on her.

"Come on, where is it…?" I felt Savanna pull something out of my coat, and I sank down further, so that I was lying all the way against the warm, slick concrete. My skin was feeling cold now, which I was vaguely aware meant that I was going into shock. But, I couldn't really think of much besides how much it hurt, and how I was going to die, and how much mom would wail when she found out.

Savanna started pulling my hands away from the wound. I tried to headbutt her, but missed because my eyes were still closed. I sputtered something about how I was going to die, and how I hated her so much, and then gave up because pressing on it didn't make it better, and my muscles were all shooting and freezing up too much to work. Resigned to my fate, I drew my hands to my chest like a mummy, and tried in vain to roll over. Something cold and wet washed over my stomach.

"I givvup," I slurred, opening my eyes just enough to look at Savanna. She looked so determined, kneeling over me with a canteen in one hand, and _something_ in the other hand, which only made me hurt more because I knew that she was going to have to bury my sorry ass. I wriggled onto my side. "Let me die! Just go, just lemme _die…"_

"I love you Isaac! I'm not gonna let you die, alright?" I didn't know what she was talking about. But, I realized that she'd dropped the canteen, and that she was holding one of my slick, bloody hands in hers, and lining something up with her other hand. I tried to focus on what she was holding…

_Oh._

_OH!_

_That was a Stimpack!_

Before I could fully understand what was happening, I felt an icy grenade go off inside me. I heard the air condense. I'm pretty sure that Savanna tried to squeeze my hand to make it feel better, but that little tingling sensation meant fuck-all while my wound was still sewing itself shut.

She kept pushing the stuff.

"Stop! STOP IT! STOP!" I screamed, kicking my legs madly and smashing my helmet against the ground over and over again. _God it hurt!_ "I just wanna die, Jesus, just let me die…" Savanna had given up trying to hold my hand, and was now keeping me still by pressing her warm, bloody hand against my forehead. When she finally took her hand off of my head to pull out the needle, I took the opportunity to thrash onto my stomach and then curl up in a ball, as the frostburn slowly gave way to a persistent, throbbing pain and nausea.

"Is there anything else I can do?" asked Savanna, her voice coming dangerously close to cracking. I spit out some more blood, and tried to look at her.

"Morphine- do we have any morphine here?"

I could see Savanna's poor little heart break as she shook her head. I tried to sit up again, because I hated how the blood was soaking through my shirt, but the pain in my stomach made me double over and roll into Savanna's arms. She pulled me closer.

"Don't move- don't worry, I've got you. I've got you Isaac..." Savanna took the helmet off of my head and ran her fingers through my blood-soaked hair. I should have felt safe, with her holding me in her arms like that, but I didn't- I just felt cold, and exposed, and completely lost.

"I wanna go home," I mumbled, although I don't know if it came out right through all of the blood. Savanna looked real angry at me.

"No! No, that's what dying people say, and you aren't dying! You're not dying, are you?"

I looked down at my bare, blood-stained abdomen, which wasn't leaking no more but which was spasming _violently,_ like someone had grabbed both ends of my right _rectus abdominal_ and just started yanking on that shit. I had no idea if any of my organs besides my liver had gotten copped, or if the Stimpack had gotten them. All I really knew was that my lungs were good, and that the bullet was still in there since I didn't have a hole out the back. But, I didn't know if it was still in my liver, or if it was just chilling out around my pleural space, or what.

_Lost. I was still lost._

"I don't know," I admitted. There was still blood welling up out of my tongue, and I was trying not to let it drip onto Savanna. Shakily, I brought my pip boy up to my face, and flipped to the health tab. Scary words and symbols popped up all across my cutesy little avatar, and I soaked it in, sorting through the little bits of information that I could understand to piece together the things that I couldn't. After a few painful seconds, I dropped my hand back to my stomach and looked up at Savanna.

"Not dying," I concluded. The round was, indeed, lodged in my liver, but the organ was marked as stable and my right kidney was good. My gallbladder was actually _missing,_ but there were no warnings about fluid leakage, so I guess that the Stimpack had spilled out of my liver-hole and sealed off that damage. All in all, that was some pretty minor stuff; a man can live without his gallbladder. I would later consider suicide after learning about all of the wonderful, fatty foods that were now barred from me, but I'd pull through.

"Well, stop talking like you are! It's freaking me out."

Behind the cars, the gunfire pounded on, but it was farther away now and I don't think it was aimed at us anymore. I started looking around for somewhere else to run to, somewhere to hide…

"Isaac! Hey, Isaac, are you with me?" Shouted Savanna, covering her ears with her hands as the gunfire started again. I grimaced.

"I'm good! You got any idea where we're going?"

"What?"

"Where the hell are we going!?" I cried, throwing my arms out and looking all around us. Savanna put her back up against the car, and pointed towards a boulder on the other side of the road. All around the boulder, sand was kicking up in clouds, with more being tossed into the air before any of it could start to settle.

"The cart went up there! Could you hand me those earphones for a second?"

Reluctantly, I pulled off my comtacs and passed them off to Savanna. The outside world was painfully loud without them, and when one of the guns closest to us started firing, I could _feel_ each bullet coming out of the muzzle, even if I couldn't see it. Thank god we weren't being shot at now, because the raw sound of the pavement next to us exploding would have sent me into hysterics.

"Here, take these," said Savanna, passing me a couple of little orange things that I assumed were earplugs. Muttering a quiet, "Thanks," I pressed them into my ear-holes and then covered them with my palms, watching Savanna and waiting for her to do something. She hadn't put on the comtacs yet, which I was about to start yelling at her about until I realized that she had flipped the mic down and was working with something on the side. After a few tense seconds, a dull green light flickered on, and Savanna donned the headset.

"Hey, Tandi, it's Savanna! We're going to try to go up there with you guys, alright?" There were a few seconds of silence. Someone started shooting again, and I pressed my hands against my ears.

"So, like, could you cover us? Maybe? Hello!?"

Savanna and I stared at each other. The gunfire from the town had stopped by now, and the dust around the boulder was starting to settle. Not knowing who won, I uncovered my ears and peeked out from behind the car a bit.

"Oh- oh boy," I said. Savanna's hand strayed to the revolver on the ground.

" _Oh boy?_ " What do you see?" She peeked her head up next to mine, then froze as the long steel gun barrel pressed up against her forehead. I looked away.

" _Drop your gun_ ," said the kid holding the rifle, in a heavy Spanish accent. Savanna's revolver went clattering to the ground. "Good- now, go back. Go!" Immediately, Savanna started scuttling backwards, dragging herself over the bloody concrete like a cornered victim in a horror movie. I sat frozen.

"Are you going to shoot us?" I asked. I saw the kid tighten his grip on his weapon.

"I- Yes! I can shoot you! Move!"

Wincing in pain, I brought myself up from the ground, and began to shuffle back. The kid shook his rifle at me. "Up! Put your hands _up!"_

"I'm sorry!" I shouted, tears stinging my eyes. The boy shook his head angrily.

"Fuck you! You are not sorry for _anything."_

The boy kept his rifle trained on me as I backpedaled towards Savanna. People were starting to come out of their hiding places now- just over a dozen of them, all dressed up like some kind of pre-war biker gang. All attention seemed to be on us now.

Beside the boy, a tall, masked man with a black leather jacket emerged from the house that I'd fired into. His ragged left arm was dangling loose at the elbow, held together either by the leather jacket or a few remaining tendons. He pointed at me with his good arm.

"Este pinche pendejo me disparó- _Matalo,_ " said the one-armed man. Savanna grabbed my hand.

" _No- No! Deberias matarlos!_ " replied the boy, lowering his rifle. The man slapped him in the side of the head.

" _Disparales, Martin! Eres un cobarde?_ " The boy reared back and shook his head fervently. Scared and confused, I looked down at Savanna, who was squeezing my hand so hard that it hurt.

"You know what the hell they're saying?" I asked. Savanna nodded.

"Yeah."

Suddenly, the boy pointed his rifle at me again, and the one-armed man stepped away from him. Savanna stood up and started shouting something, shaking her hands above her head. My heart stopped in my chest.

"Wait! Are they-?"

Time froze. All around me, the air shimmered, and _broke._

Then came the heat. It washed over me like an invisible wave, penetrating my clothes and sinking deep into my skin. Noiselessly, the boy jerked his entire body and collapsed onto the car, his useless rifle clattering onto the concrete below.

I blinked. _What?_

The one armed man yanked off his mask and grabbed the boy by his shoulders, only for a sudden, white-hot fire to consume his whole upper body, burning away his jacket and then his shirt and skin, until his eyes popped and his teeth shattered and his charred, yellow-scabbed face started to slough of his head. Time crawled on as the fire slowed, and the man's loose arm dropped to the ground, and what was left of the man followed, stiff and crumbling. Meanwhile, all of the hair on the boy's head was burning, like some kind of sick torch. His whole face looked like it had been put through a meat grinder; his eyes had been reduced to a red soup.

And then, there was chaos. Everyone in the village started shouting and running back into their houses. A tiny little woman in a white shirt climbed on top of a low roof and opened fire with her Kalashnikov. Through it all, not a single person was looking at us anymore.

"What the- what…" Unable to hold it in any longer, I sank down on my hands and knees, and puked my stomach out on the ground.

"-What the _fuck_ was that!?" I coughed, blood and vomit still dripping from my mouth. I looked up from the puddle, and saw that every house in the town was now burning from the inside out. The people were in the streets, now- some of them on fire, some of them not. All of them were running, though, and _everyone_ was shouting. I couldn't hear it over the roar of the fire, but I could see it on their faces.

"Gram, probably! Do you need any help up?" I shook my head absently. In the center of the village, the tiny little woman had rolled off of the roof, thrashing about in a fiery display. I watched as a bigger woman ripped off her jacket and dropped down beside her and tried to beat out the fire on her clothes. But she just kept getting burned, and soon she was on fire too, rolling around next to her. The village was filled with black smoke.

"This doesn't make sense," I said. I closed my eyes, and ran it all through my head again. "No, this doesn't make sense. _This doesn't make sense!_ This doesn't make any sense, right Savanna?" Savanna nodded sympathetically.

"No, it doesn't. Let's just stop looking at it, alright? If Volker and Ollie freaked you out, then you _really_ shouldn't be watching this." She grabbed my hand and started tugging at it, but I wouldn't budge.

"Hmh. Freaked out! I'm supposed to be freaking out about now, right? Supposed to be yelling and biting and stuff?" Slowly, almost _fearfully,_ Savanna let go of my hand, and backed away. I put my head into my hands, and started to shake. "Oh hell, this _does_ make sense! Gram just used a laser gun, right? Son of a bitch!"

The inferno had spread to the street now, where debris from the crumbling buildings mixed with burning clothes, and gasoline, and little crystalline patches and spires of green-brown glass. I didn't see anyone left alive, but just by counting the bodies, I knew that there were at least a few who were still hiding in there, somewhere. I considered helping but, looking into hell, it was easy to tell myself that it would be pointless. _Where would I even start…?_

"Hey, you two, get the hell over here! Tandi's hit bad, she needs a medic!"

I turned around to see Gram standing across the road, midway up the hill to the boulder. His dirty green laser rifle still glowed in his gnarled hands.

"I'm trying, but I don't think Isaac wants to move!" replied Savanna, tugging gently at my shoulder. I brushed her hand away.

"Stop touching me- I'll go fix Tandi. I just don't want to think about this no more!"

"What?"

"I said, I don't wanna think no more!" I snapped, standing up and brushing past her. It was difficult to hear each other over the raging inferno, but I guess Savanna heard that, because she stayed well out of my way as I hauled myself to my feet and grabbed my fire helmet up off the ground.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Asked Savanna, as we jogged across the road and towards the hillside. I thought about that for a moment, before shaking my head.

"Hell, I don't know," I said, eventually. I wanted to say more; I wanted to explain _why_ I wasn't okay, because I knew that she'd listen, and that she'd care. But, I also knew that if I tried, I would probably have to lie, because the truth was worrying me too much to be honest about.

So I didn't. I didn't say more, and I didn't lie, and I didn't think about it for the rest of the day.

-Break-

"PVP!"

"Scalpel!"

"Now close your eyes and hold my hand- trust me, this is gonna hurt like _shit."_

The knife went in. Tandi squeezed my hand so hard that I thought it might break as I made a messy incision across 2 rings and let the air rush in, allowing her to breathe despite the swelling from the errant rock that had crushed her throat. I stuck my hand out to Gram.

"Tube!"

Gram passed me the rigid trache tube. Tandi continued to crush my weird, four-fingered hand as I spread the opening with my fingers and forced the tube through, which made even more blood well up around the bottom. I inflated the cuff and looked over my shoulder.

"Savanna, have you got the-?"

"Yeah, just a second!" Hands shaking, she tapped the side of the little glass syringe and eyeballed the dose one more time before handing it to me, injector first. I pulled up Tandi's sleeve, and slipped the needle into the faint blue vein in the crook of her arm.

"You aren't going to put it on the site?" asked Savanna, sidling up next to me and watching as I emptied the syringe. I shook my head.

"No- Morphine's not a local painkiller, so we're just gonna have to wait for it to kick in…" Tandi had let go of my hand, and was now clawing at her trache-tube. I brushed her hand away. "I'm real sorry, Tandi, but that's gotta stay in- It sucks, but you just gotta work through it until I can un-fuck your larynx."

Tandi closed her eyes and nodded understandingly. She wasn't crying- she was _shivering,_ but there wasn't a tear to be seen. Considering the state that I'd been in when I got hit, I've got to admit that I was impressed. The last few days had shown me so much of her humanity and vulnerability that I'd almost forgotten that she was a lauded war hero who had survived a literal gunshot wound to the face. Regular combat trauma was small 'taters for her.

"Is she good? Can we get out of here now?" shouted Gram, from the edge of the bolder. I scowled at him through the cart.

"Chill the fuck out you human raisin, I'm workin' on it!" I shot back, removing the syringe from Tandi's cephalic vein and shoving it into my side pocket. Savanna snorted, and Tandi managed a weak smile with the good side of her face. I smiled right on back.

"Isaac, not all of them are dead- do you _want_ us to get shot? My heater's running out of charge here, and it looks like any second they're gonna-"

Gram was suddenly interrupted as a hail of bullets crashed into the boulder, which made me scream like a little girl. Shrapnel went flying, the Brahmin panicked and reared their heads, and Savanna tackled me to the ground. I tried to look around.

"Is anybody hit!? Does anybody need a Stimpack?" I shouted. Savanna rolled off of me, and she didn't have any holes in her. Gram crawled out from under the cart unscathed, and Tandi just looked tired. I sat up painfully, and turned around on my butt to face Gram.

"Alrighty then- _yes,_ Gram, Tandi is okay now! Are any of us strong enough to get her in the cart?" Someone moved behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Tandi hauling herself to her hands and knees, trache-tube sticking out just below her gas mask. I shook my head in disbelief.

"Tandi, you shouldn't-"

"Get in the damn cart!" interrupted Gram. Silently, Tandi limped behind the cart, threw open the back doors, and crawled inside. Gram took the reigns and climbed atop Flebe, who made a sad whining noise as Gram put all of his weight on its injured leg. I pushed the noise out of my head.

"Have we got everything? You didn't forget anything, right?" asked Savanna, as I finished packing up my jump bag. The damn thing was practically empty- we were almost out of stimpacks now, and I'd used all of my Med-X on the surgery. Still, I nodded, because if I'd forgotten anything I'd notice. Gram waved at us from atop Flebe's back.

"Alright, you two, follow me! We're going over this hill- take cover where you can find it, use the cart when you can't. Got it?"

"Got it!" shouted Savanna, dumping both of the medical bags into the back of the cart with Tandi. I nodded.

"Yeah. When are we-"

Gram thrashed the reigns and the two brahmin took off, charging up the hill with the cart (and Tandi) in tow. I grabbed Savanna's hand and started running alongside it, my injured belly screaming at me to stop as I tried hopelessly to pace beside the Brahmin. They kept getting sand in my eyes, and kicking up rocks against my skin, which was really starting to irritate me when the first bullets hit.

After that, the sand didn't seem so bad.

"Come on!" I screamed, pulling at Savanna's arm and hoping that it would make her go faster. I could see her face strain with effort as the hill grew steeper. All around us, the bullets were tossing up clouds of dust and green sparks, stinging the ground and zipping over our heads. I looked to the cart for cover, but it had already overtaken us, and was nearing the top of the hill.

"Gram! Wait, Gram, we need- stop, we need cover! Hold up!" I shouted, between the involuntary noises of fear and exhaustion that were coming out of my throat. A bullet went right through the top of my helmet with a terrible shearing noise, which made both me and Savanna drop down on all fours and start crawling up the rocky hill, with the clouds of sand flying past my helmet and my headphones and my glasses, and into my eyes and ears and nose, clinging at the back of my throat... I whimpered out in fear.

"We're almost there! Come on, Isaac, we're almost- oh, _gàn_!" Savanna lost her footing and fell flat on her face. My body screamed at me to keep on crawling, but, in a solitary moment of bravery, I convinced it to let me stand up and pull Savanna with me. For a few terrifying seconds, I was completely exposed against the top of the hill as I pulled her up by her armpits and tried to orient her, until she had blinked away all the shit in her eyes and started stumbling forwards again.

Before I was even sure if she was okay, I had already turned and started sprinting over the flat top of the hill. The shrubs tore at my ankles and the bullets kept zipping past, which just made me run faster towards the part where it started going downhill fast, and the guys couldn't shoot at me anymore. I looked down, glanced behind me, and then threw myself over the edge, holding onto my helmet like one of the soldiers from " _Apocalypse Now."_

_Goddamn, it felt good to be alive!_

A few joyous, adrenaline-pumping seconds passed as I leaned with my back up against the hill, laughing and watching the brilliant green tracers fly over our heads and off into nowhere, like shooting stars that just kept going. Eventually, Savanna stumbled over the edge and dropped down beside me, panting and clutching at her chest. I couldn't see very much through all the sand in my eyes and glasses, but I could definitely see the outline of the cart and our two Brahmin standing still in front of us.

"Everyone's okay? Nobody's got any holes in them!?" Shouted Gram, hopping off of Flebe and striding towards me and Savanna. I turned my head away from Savanna to spit out a wet gob of sand and blood, then nodded. I remembered the sound that the bullet made when it went through me the last time, and I was _very_ sure that I hadn't heard it again. That's the sort of thing that sticks with you for a while.

"Yeah, we're all alive! Where are we going now?" asked Savanna. Gram knelt down next to us and lifted up my arm with the pip-boy on it. He scrolled through screens for a few seconds, then pointed- I took off my dirty glasses and squinted to try to see what he was pointing at.

"We're going to be cutting straight through here, right over that gear-sign, and to that little house right, _here._ There's an old fallout shelter under there where we can lay low for a little while. After that, we're gonna move up to this crushing plant, where the roads merge and we get to go the same way as last time," explained Gram, tracing his finger over the flickering green map like that would help me understand him. I wiped some more soot out of my eyes.

"Well, I got no way of understanding if that's a good plan, so let's just do this! Good?"

"Good."

"Good!"

In fact, it wasn't good- I was still on a timer, and this smelled like another delay. It hurt, to see the Lucky 38 so close on the horizon, and to know that we couldn't just head straight for it. But I was still drunk on being alive, and if I was being honest with myself, this was going faster than expected. And, really, what difference would a few days make? Right?

_Right?_

[+]


	19. The World's Most Autistic Cowboy

(+)19

2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

6504 BYTES FREE

HOLLOW TAPE LOADED: "THE-WORLD'S-MOST-AUTISTIC-COWBOY"

INITIALISING…

SUCCESS!

**STATUS**

Battery Level: 100% (CHARGING)

Wireless Signal: (?)

Operating Temperature: 92F

**HEALTH**

BP: 120/90

SPO2: 100%

Temp: 98.5F

RR: 12

HR: 70

**WARNING: GALLBLADDER ABSENT!**

**TIME**

Day: 1 October 2279

Time: 18:32

**CLIMATE**

Current Temperature: 78F

Atmospheric Pressure: 762 mmHG

* * *

It was late in the afternoon, and all I could smell was fresh laundry. Despite our best attempts to stink the place up over the last week, the scent of cleanliness still pervaded the whole underground shelter, which was matched by the clean, colorful carpets, the striking, off-white Bakelite wall-paneling with the painted-on grass and ferns, and the high arched ceilings. Not the kind of fallout shelter that I would have picked to stay in, but it was unarguably high-concept and luxurious; Until this week, I'd never been anywhere so genuinely untouched by the apocalypse.

_Too bad the original family never got to use it._ From across the room, I heard an angry beeping noise, and then a fist slamming against a metal desk. I groaned and looked up from my pillow to see Savanna glowering over the living-room computer terminal for what had to be at least the hundredth time this week. The image of a lock shone clearly on the glowing red screen.

" _Tā mā de!"_ muttered Savanna, pressing her head against the desk and covering her face with her hands. I lifted my head up off the couch.

"What's that one mean?" I asked. Savanna huffed at me.

"I don't remember- it's an angry word, it means that I'm angry! Who the hell would put all these protections on a Model '35?"

I shrugged, because I didn't know what a model '35 was, or why they wouldn't protect it. Savanna took her hands off of her face. "You know what? One more try. I'll give it one more try, then I'll give up! I'm not falling for another sunk-cost fallacy." She turned off the computer, waited a couple of seconds, and then turned it back on. The eerie red glow washed over her face again as the system came alive, taunting her with its chirpy little welcome crawl…

I couldn't just stand by and watch.

"Can I try? I mean, I don't mean to brag, but I'm what you might call a _computer whisperer_ ," I said, which was a lie that was as blatant as it was untrue. Savanna looked at me over her shoulder. There wasn't an ounce of skepticism in her eyes, only desperation. She rolled over to me in her rolly-chair.

"Really?" She asked. I decided to go with it.

"Oh, for sure! There's only one group of people who are better at computers than you Asian-folks, and that's Autistic-folks! It's on account of us _basically_ being computers, y'know?"

_I might have been pushing it with that one._ Savanna was definitely suspicious now, but it was too late- she had already gotten out of her chair, and I had already gotten up from the couch and commandeered the thing. Careful to keep my morphine bag from sliding off of my lap, I rolled my way over to the computer, and surveyed the screen before me.

" **PLEASE ENTER PASSWORD** ," said the screen. I knew this screen from my own computer; I didn't know what it said, exactly, but I did know that to get past it I had to type in a password. I wasn't aware of any way around this, so I readied my fingers.

"Wow, that is just, incredibly offensive! This isn't- oh." Her shoulders sagged. "Oh, I see. You're screwing with me. You're just going to get me locked out again, aren't you?" I pretended to look offended.

"Whhaaaattt? No! I watched _Tron,_ Savanna, I know what I'm doing!"

As it turns out, I hadn't actually watched Tron, or I would've known that the joke didn't work. I glided my hands over the keyboard, trying to think of an adequate password. My personal choice has always been 80085, because, you know, _boobs are funny,_ but that didn't seem becoming of the kind of rich fella who'd own a bunker like this. I racked my brain for alternatives…

"No, please! Please, you're going to get me-"

"Hush, you gorgeous fool! You're watching a master at work."

In a moment of divine inspiration, I hunched over the keyboard and tapped out, " **1-2-3-4** ," then leaned back and hit ENTER. Immediately, the login screen disappeared, and gave way to a new screen that said,

" **WELCOME, BILL."**

I imagine that I looked something like Satan, grinning devilishly in the glowing red light. I heard Savanna make a surprised noise from the couch.

"BOOM! Get hacked… _BYILL!"_ I shouted, hoping that I'd sounded out the name right. Savanna looked at me wearily.

"What did you _do?"_ She asked. I dropped the grin and spun around in my chair to face her.

"Well, what'd you think I did? I hacked it."

"Really? And how'd you do that?" She asked. I steepled my fingers like a smart person.

"That's a loaded question."

"How?"

"Because you know I'm gonna get it wrong!" Savanna cocked her head.

"No, really, how did you do it? I'm genuinely curious!"

"Well, I bypassed the mainframe. Obviously." My poker face was showing cracks, but Savanna's was not. She sat up straight on the couch.

"I bet you got lucky. You just guessed the password, right? Was it something obvious?" I bit my lip to avoid smiling.

"Well, I think that " _guessed"_ is an _unkind_ way to describe it-"

"Isaac," interrupted Savanna. I ignored her.

"-I mean, considering how much detective work I did, how many _hidden clues_ I had to-"

"Isaac!"

"Okay, yeah, I guessed it. It was literally just 1-2-3-4," I admitted. Savanna looked dumbfounded.

"1-2-3-4? Really?"

"Yep."

Savanna stared at me, then the computer, then back at me. I tried my best to look non threatening. Eventually, she did a big shrug and flopped over on the couch, apparently defeated. The couch had a bunch of comfy pillows on it, and they made that satisfying, "poof!" noise as she kicked back on them.

"Thanks, I guess. I definitely never would've guessed that," she murmured, curling up her legs to let me sit. I gave her a butt-pat of appreciation as I plopped myself down next to her.

"Aw, you're welcome! Bein' honest, my only other guess was, "Boobs," spelled with numbers. If that didn't work, I was just gonna give up." Savanna smiled.

"You weren't even going to try, "Password?" What are you, an amateur?" I tried not to look defensive.

"Well shoot, I don't know how to spell that! Long words are hard!"

"It was right there on the screen!"

"And how-exactly-the-hell was I supposed to know that? I was proud of myself for sounding out, "Byill!" I'm a few peas short of a good casserole, Savanna!" I shot back. She looked mystified.

"You- _What?"_ I rolled my eyes.

"You know- not the sharpest knife in the drawer, a few screws short of a hardware store, intellect rivaled by garden tools…" I tried to think of more idioms. Savanna raised her hand.

"Depriving some village of its idiot?" she suggested. I nodded.

"Yeah, that's the idea! Oh, how about, 'Running on 3 cylinders?' I heard mom say that one once!"

"I've got a bunch of them! Antenna doesn't pick up all the channels, missing a few buttons in your remote control-"

"A poster child for birth control!"

"Proof that evolution CAN go in reverse!"

"A few colors short of a rainbow!"

"Um, Hard Drive's spinning but the OS isn't installed _,_ _HOME=/dev/null,_ A few megabytes short of a gig…"

"Slow as a radslug on morphine! Couple of IQ points above brain death, few beads short of a rosary, batteries ain't included!"

"Pilot light is out- Nice house, but not a ton of furniture."

"A terminal case of Fecal Encephalopathy!"

"Ooh, that one is good! Did you come up with it yourself?"

"Nah, people've been using it for ages. Like I said, I ain't that smart."

At this point, I had almost forgotten that it was my intelligence that we were attacking, probably because I was having so much fun coming up with new ways to do so. Also because Savanna was doing that really big grin that made her eyes look like they were closed from far away, but if I mentioned _every_ time that Savanna did something that I thought was cute, I'd never talk about anything else. That smile played a crucial part in an embarrassing amount of my bad life choices.

"You know, every time that you tell people how stupid you are, you always prove yourself wrong. Why do you still insist on it?" asked Savanna, propping herself up against the arm of the couch so that we could look at each other. I shrugged.

"I don't know? Could it be because I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed? Maybe I'm really _not_ the freshest veggie in the salad, and you're just biased 'cause you like me." Savanna shook her head.

" _Or,_ maybe it's because you're insecure, and the only way for you to feel better about your intelligence is to constantly attack it." I frowned.

"No, I'm pretty sure that I'm just not the fastest brahmin in the stable. You know- a few pills short of a pack, few bristles short of a broom…"

"A few grams short of a mole- _No_ , no I am not going to play into this anymore! I think that you're insecure, and this is how you try to make it better."

"Or, _I'm_ just an idiot, and _you_ wish I wasn't because you're smart and you like me. Occam's Razorblade or whatever." I was starting to get genuinely upset, now, although I would have denied it at the time. I flinched as Savanna put her hand on top of mine.

"Isaac, I've met a lot of stupid people. I was raised in the most bureaucratic tribe, probably _ever,_ and then I lived with a bunch of genuine idiots for a large portion of my life..." She moved her hand to my neck, and stared into my eyes. "So you can trust me when I tell you, baobie, that I really, _really_ don't think that you're one of them."

I looked away from her. " _Of course you don't think that,"_ I wanted to say, " _You shared a sleeping bag with me. No one wants to admit that they're dating a retard."_ But, I couldn't really argue with her experience; she did, indeed, grow up around some absolute walnuts, and that was just the people who I'd met. When you meet a lot of similar people, you start to see a pattern, and I apparently wasn't included in hers. _Why was that?_ I had never considered myself a very bright person.

"Alright, riddle me this- how exactly am I _not_ a dumbass? Because, if we put me on trial here for just a second, I've made _at least_ 3 unforgivable mistakes this past little while-"

"You've been under a lot of pressure," interrupted Savanna. I stuck out my hand.

"Ah- I weren't done! See, for the longest time, I thought that girls peed out the same hole they popped babies out of, because I was too embarrassed to study women's anatomy with anyone until I was _15_ years old _!_ By that time, I was already going around saying that I was a doctor."

"Well, that is… a little bit unflattering," admitted Savanna. I nodded.

"You bet it is. And, to top it all off, I thought that the stupid, "coin-behind-the-ear trick," that my father always used to do with me was _actual fuckin' black magic,_ until like, last Friday!"

"Coin behind the ear trick?"

"Yeah. Got any caps on you?" Savanna fished around in her pocket for a minute, then handed me a little red bottle cap with a faded blue star on the bottom. I held it between my fingers.

"Alright- see this cap? Give it a good hard look because, in a few seconds, I'm gonna make it _disappear."_ Savanna looked skeptical. As promised, I gave her a few seconds to admire the weird little cap, before waving my hands magically and letting it slide into my sleeve. I brandished my now empty hands.

"It's in your sleeve, right?" asked Savanna. I laughed humorlessly.

" _Well_ , not according to my stupid dead father, it ain't! It's gone from this mortal coil, and, in a second, it's about to pop up behind your ear. Check this out-" I reached behind her head, slipped the cap out from my sleeve, and worked my way through the fine finger-movements required to pull off the trick. After a few seconds of surgical precision, I made an, "oh-my-gosh," face and, to the surprise of absolutely no one, pulled the cap out from behind her ear. "Alakazam! I hope you're seeing Octarine, because you just got magicked!"

"I'm kind of concerned that you'd put time into learning how to do that. How long did you-"

"Three straight nights," I interjected, clenching my fists as I fought off the memories of all those tearful nights spent alone, amending my entire worldview to make up for the gaping hole that, "Magic," had left in it, coming to terms with the fact that my childhood was a lie. Some might say that this whole, " _Practicing Medicine,_ " thing is my coming-of-age story, but I disagree; all of the _real_ character growth had happened a couple of weeks back, in the vastly superior story, " _Practicing Magic."_

"Well, yeah, that's all really stupid. But, on the other side, you also memorized the entire human body-"

"Except for the female urinary tract," I interrupted. Savanna sighed.

" _Except for the female urinary tract,_ I guess. Still, that's impressive! From what you've told me, you only started studying this stuff a few years ago, and you've already got it down to an art. I spent most of my free time as a kid reading textbooks, and there's not a single subject that I know more thoroughly than you know medicine."

"That's because I'm an idiot savant! The only way for me to learn anything is to obsess over it."

_Turns out, she might have hit a sore spot with that one._ I don't still believe that I'm a savant- In fact, I don't think that such a thing really exists. But, after all these years, I'm still not proud of how I learned about the human body. Savanna, for her part, was coming dangerously close to opening that whole can of worms.

"Isaac, I'm sorry but that's ridiculous. It's not weird to have a hard time learning things that don't interest you, and there's nothing wrong with being really interested in something! I mean, you call it an obsession, but I think that you're being too hard on yourself. It's only an obsession when bad things come of it," said Savanna, and I laughed at that even though it clearly made her mad. ' _Really interested-'_ That was an offensive understatement. Of course, it wasn't Savanna's fault that she didn't know what my medical obsession had entailed; I'd never told anyone except for my own mom, and I only opened up to her when she saw the blood on the sheets.

"Oh, you can laugh all you want, but I'm not changing my mind about this! Words like, "Savant," and, "Obsession," make it sound like you're broken. I think that-"

"You should stop," I said. There wasn't any malice in my voice, because I wasn't angry with her. I just really wanted her to stop talking. The memories were creeping back, and I knew that if I thought too much about it, I would have a meltdown. I hadn't had a meltdown since Volker and Ollie were shot to death in front of me. I wasn't eager to do it again.

Of course, she didn't stop. And that upset me. It shouldn't have, I think, because I didn't explain why, and she clearly thought she was helping, but it did. I felt that weird, sinking chest-ache that you feel when you realize that your parents have lied to you, or said something horrible about you when they thought you were asleep.

"Why not? I just- I don't get you, Isaac! You're so smart, and you're nice, and all you want to do is help people, but you never let yourself feel proud. I don't know why you hate yourself so much." I looked away from her. _She didn't get it. She wasn't going to get it. Why wouldn't she stop?_

"Savanna, I'm serious- you don't know what you're talking about!" I said, but she just kept going.

"Really- I think that your mind is wonderful. I get that it's weird, and that you get overwhelmed sometimes, but it's so… efficient! Like, I can do complicated math in my head, but that's only because I trained for it since I was a toddler. Things just come naturally to you! What you call an obsession, I call-"

"Oh, for Christ's sake, none of it came naturally! Look at my arm!" I shouted, yanking up the sleeve of my shirt with my sweaty, shaking hands. She hunched over to look at it. After a few seconds of somber silence, she looked back up at me, clearly confused.

"What's wrong with it?" She asked. I grabbed a hold of her hand, and placed it on the smooth, hairless skin that ran up my forearm. The look on her face didn't change. "I don't get it. What are you trying to show me?"

"The skin- it ain't mine. It's that weird, rubbery stuff that Stimpacks make when there's not enough skin left to graft. You know why it's like this?" At first, Savanna looked like she was going to shake her head. Then, suddenly, she pulled her hand away- her neck had gone rigid, and her eyes opened all wide. After a moment of painful deliberation, she gave me a single, weak nod.

"I… have an idea." She tried to meet my eyes. "Did you-?"

"Do it myself? Bingo!" I was smiling, but there were tears in the back of my throat. Savanna kept staring at me.

"Oh. Oh my god, you _dissected_ yourself?" I nodded. For the first time this evening, Savanna was spot on.

_Mom was always worried I'd do it again,_ I remembered _. She never really trusted me, not after she walked in on me with my arm hanging loose at the elbow. She had been suspicious- she'd seen the black-red blood on the sheets, found empty syringes. But, after that day, it got so much worse. I was never allowed to go anywhere without asking her._

"I couldn't read the books, and the drawings just made my head buzz. It'd been too long since I'd done an autopsy- None of it was clicking anymore. I should've given up. But, I was fucking obsessed, I _needed_ to know, because I was never going to be powerless again!" I stopped for a second- I was getting upset. I took some deep breaths to try to calm myself down, but I couldn't get the shakiness out of my voice. I tried to continue. "So, so, I walked back to my room, and I ran some Novocaine, and I bisected my forearm between the radius and ulna! I had to look inside."

Savanna covered her face. But I wasn't thinking about her- I was just picturing what I'd done. Running it through my head, over and over again, like a living nightmare.

"And I didn't stop there. That's where I did the most but I didn't stop there- I spent a lot of nights cutting myself up, my whole body! I started cutting muscles and tendons, touching my organs and pushing them around. I would peel off skin with a scalpel, then graft it back on with a Stimpack. For a while, I didn't cut my arteries, because I was afraid that I would die. But of course, eventually I slipped, just ran the scalpel right through the crook of my arm. I fixed the artery, but I left the arm like that for a while, and I let all the little veins run. I'd never seen so much of myself hanging open like that. And neither had Mom, when she walked in on me like… _that."_

It was impossible to keep the tears out of my voice at this point. The way that mom had wailed- _she thought I was trying to kill myself!_ Even though I had been covered in blood, and my left arm was dangling by a few tendons, she had scooped me up in her arms and held me close, singing to me in her broken, terrified voice. I remember being silent, closing my eyes, and trying to disappear. I didn't know how else to handle consequences like that.

"And I just, I just wished that I could take it all back. I _never_ hurt myself again. I didn't stop being obsessed, but I had learned enough that the pictures made sense. When I had a question about what an organ did, I would just have the McBains read the words to me. I'm not very smart- I was trying to tell you, it _didn't_ come naturally! But, I've got a perfect memory for all the stupid shit that I'm obsessed with. They never had to read anything twice."

I looked up and down my arm again. There weren't no scars. I always had a Stimpack on hand, and it didn't take much to seal up my incisions. But, the restoration was never perfect- The thin, rubbery skin that ran along my forearm was unable to heal naturally, and bruised a deep purple and yellow every time I bumped it on something. Every time I tripped and fell, I would have to endure the pained stares from mom; after the incident, every little mark on my body made her worry. She was the only other person in the world who knew why I bruised like that. _Her and Savanna, now._ On top of my other massed emotions, I was starting to become very worried about how Savanna would take this. I looked at her again, and saw that she wasn't crying- just listening, intently. I balled my fists up again.

"You aren't- you ain't gonna be weird about this, right? You ain't gonna look at me funny whenever I want to be somewhere alone?" I asked. Savanna looked surprised.

"Isaac, I… what? No! No, I'm glad that you told me about this! What you were saying to me makes a lot more sense now. I promise, I'm never going to look at you any differently for speaking up." I let myself relax a little bit. That made me feel better.

"Good," I said. Neither of my hands were open, so Savanna took me by the shoulder and squeezed. I didn't try and fight her.

"The least I can do is be supportive about this. I'm sorry for what I said- I wasn't trying to hurt you, but, in light of all that…" I stuck out my hand to stop her.

"I know," I said. Savanna looked relieved. I wasn't shaking anymore, so I let down my legs and tried to sit up on the couch like a normal person. Savanna gave me a nudge, and I moved over a little so that she could snuggle up next to me again. I let her lay her head down on my lap.

"Good. That's good." We were both quiet for a while. Across the room, on the magical little color television, the opening theme to M.A.S.H was playing.

" _ **The game of life is hard to play,**_

_**I'm gonna lose it any-way.** _

_**The losing card, I'll someday lay,** _

_**So this is all I have to say…"** _

"Can I turn that off?" asked Savanna. I shrugged.

"Sure. I stopped paying attention three episodes ago."

Savanna reached over my lap to grab the bulky aluminum remote and hit the power button. The television refused to turn off, so she waved the antenna around a little and hit the power button a few more times, but to no avail. The theme song kept on playing.

" _ **Suicide is painless,**_

_**It brings on many changes...** _

_**And I can take or leave it,** _

_**If I please…"** _

"Aaand, this is why we can't have wireless things," muttered Savanna, setting the useless remote down beside her. She sighed. "I'm gonna go see if there's an off button on the screen. Is it okay if I get up?"

"Go for it. I think I'm okay now."

Savanna got up and walked over to the T.V, which gave me a great opportunity to look at her again. She was real pretty in her nightgown, of course, but that wasn't all that I was thinking about; Mostly, I was thinking about how much better she had made me feel. I didn't know it at the time, but I'd been aching to share all that with someone for _ages._ I'd rather I hadn't shared it like that, but Savanna worked well with what I gave her. She was honest, level headed, and not even a little bit patronizing. In a world of people who looked at me like a walking manifestation of crazy, she had always refused to see me as anything less than a human person.

_She's perfect,_ I decided. Savanna had knelt down beside the T.V, now. She was running her fingers along the bottom of the screen, trying to find the button that would turn it off. I couldn't take my eyes off her.

"What are you staring at?" She asked, smiling and looking up from the T.V. I smiled back at her.

"Only the prettiest girl I've ever known." Apparently, Savanna found the button right around then, because the T.V clicked off and the room went dead silent. I felt a sudden need to clarify.

"That's you. You're the prettiest girl I've ever known," I said, pointing at Savanna to make sure that she got it. Savanna laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Oh, cut that out! I think we both know that's not true." The couch cushions deflated again as Savanna plopped down next to me and pulled up a blanket from the arm of the couch. She spread it out over our laps. "Although, I'm honestly kind of confused about how many women you've known. Is it more or less than ten?"

"Like, actually known? Not counting relatives, I reckon less than ten. I don't get out very much," I replied. After thinking about it for a little while, I realized that such a small sample size might come across as an insult. I laughed nervously. "Of- well, 'course, even if I'd met a hundred girls, I'd still think that you're the prettiest! Like, even if we count all the people who I've seen, but don't really know- even if we counted _relatives_ , I'd still- I…" Savanna watched with what I assume was a mix of pity and amusement as I trailed off midway through my abominable recovery, trying to think of a way to conclude my confused, now vaguely incestuous-sounding point. I looked away from her. "I dunno what I'm on about. I blame all of this on the morphine."

"Aw- that was the second saddest thing I've heard from you all week. Do you want a pity hug?" I nodded hopelessly. Taking care not to squish my bag of morphine, Savanna laid her head back down on my lap and wrapped her arms around my waist. I couldn't really hug her back from that position, so I just sort of sat there and waited for her to let go. Not that I was in any hurry…

"Are you okay?" asked Savanna, which surprised me because, yes, _obviously_ I was okay. I stroked her neck.

"Of course! I'm just thinking. I get all quiet when I think," I replied. She turned her head to look up at me.

"What are you thinking about?" I scratched at the back of my head. What _was_ I thinking about?

"Well, I guess I'm just thinking about you. And how much I appreciate you, and all that." I stopped. I felt like I was coming very close to saying something dangerous. I decided to proceed with caution, in case I said something uncalled for. "I... _really like_ you. And that's a lot to process."

"You can say it if you want." I looked at her bewilderedly.

"What?"

"The L-Word. I don't care if you say it."

"Oh. Okay!"

I bit my lip. _Right. The L Word._ The one that I'd been dancing around all week. Savanna had said it at Bonnie Springs, but I assumed that was just because I had gotten fuckin air-conditioned in front of her and she wanted to make me feel better. I didn't think we'd actually be using it so soon.

'Is that okay? It's okay if you don't want to say it! It's just, I thought I should tell you, in case you did!" Savanna had taken her arms off of my waist and sat up straight, in a way that let me know that she was nervous. I put my hands on her shoulders.

"No- no, don't worry! I was kind of thinking the same thing. I'm just awful surprised that you'd be okay with it already. You're usually kind of…"

"Scared of affection?" I nodded.

"Yeah! I thought that this kind of thing usually spooked you a little."

"It does. I mean, don't get me wrong- look at me, I'm shaking! But, I'm trying to get past all that, because every time that I let you closer to me I always wish I would've done it sooner. So, I'm not going to pretend this time." Savanna put her hand on my cheek. I tried not to look too nervous. "I think I love you, Isaac. Really."

"I love you too," I murmured, looking into Savanna's eyes and hoping that I meant it. We kissed, and then stared at each other for a second, and then kissed again. Savanna pushed me onto my back, started tugging at my shirt collar…

"Ah- hey! Hey, watch the IV!" Savanna looked startled as I pushed her leg off of mine with my knee. I still had a low-flow morphine infusion running through my popliteal vein, and she was making it stab farther into my leg.

"Oh. Sorry." She shifted her weight over to my other leg. "Better?"

"Yeah. Where were we at?" Savanna put her hand on my collar again, and started undoing the top button. I wasn't familiar with the common practice for these sorts of situations, so I just ran my hands over her waist and acted like I knew what I was doing. After all, it wasn't like she knew any better than me- we were just a couple of dumb kids, going by our instincts and hoping that we didn't screw up too bad...

I wouldn't have had it any other way.

_-Break-_

At precisely 6'o o'clock in the morning, the dim red night-lights of the bunker switched off, and the slow-spiraling, orange "Morning-lights'' activated. Much like the bright light of the rising sun, these lights had a way of going right through my eyeballs, waking me up without ever letting me understand why. It was a nice way to wake up- much better than a blaring alarm, or an angry ex-ranger kicking in my door. Whoever built this bunker was my kind of people.

_Was anyone else awake yet?_ I turned my head to see if Savanna was up, and quickly decided that she wasn't. She definitely wouldn't have tolerated all of the hair in her face if she was. Not wanting to wake her, I brushed aside my part of the covers, and slowly, _ever so slowly,_ squirmed my way out of her loose embrace. It was not an easy process. With all of the bare limbs that we'd managed to somehow entangle during the night, escaping without notifying her was a real puzzle.

When I finally did manage to free myself, I rolled directly onto the carpeted floor, and stuck my arm out to avoid hitting the coffee table. Savanna made a funny little noise and rolled over onto her stomach, but otherwise failed to notice my daring escape. I let out a sigh of relief. I had been unconsciously holding my breath throughout the entire process, and it felt good to breathe again.

As quietly as I could, I hauled myself to my feet and tiptoed towards the laundry room, the too-cold bunker air washing over my skin. I'd finally gotten around to throwing my old, blood-stained clothes in the wash the night before, and if my limited knowledge of washing appliances was correct, they should have been ready by then. Slowly, I opened the well-oiled metal door to the laundry room, and peeked inside…

Nothing. I sighed and closed the door behind me. Now, if I could just find the damn light switch-

"Up already?"

I suppressed a shriek as Gram emerged from within the dark recesses of the laundry room, like some foul beast from its cave. He was holding my neatly-folded clothes in his arms. "You forgot to dry these, you know. Don't do laundry often?" Still trying to recover from the initial shock, I shook my head bewilderedly.

"Uh- no, I guess not. Mom usually did it for me." Feeling somewhat embarrassed, I grabbed my clothes out of his arms and set them down on the striped-blue ironing table beside me. After a few awkward seconds where Gram just stared at me expectantly, he motioned towards the neat stack of clothes, and then at me. I cocked my head at him.

"…Are you gonna put them on? Or are you gonna make me stare at your fucking boxer-shorts all morning?" I looked down, and realized that I was, in fact, still not wearing anything besides my socks, and my checkered underpants. I nodded absently.

"Oh, right. Clothes!" I put my legs through my khakis and hiked them up as far as they'd go, then grabbed my blue button up off the table. I unfolded it, gave it a good hard stare, and then gently set it back down on the table.

"Something wrong with the shirt?" asked Gram. I nodded.

"Yes. There's still a hole in it."

I didn't want to look at it any longer, because it was giving me bad memories of the day I'd been shot, but the little, uneven hole was impossible to mistake for anything else; despite being put through the wash and cleaned of blood, it was still dotted with deeply embedded residue, and scorched black around the edges. It looked like some errant Stormtrooper had put a laser bolt through it.

"Alright. Well, your coat hasn't got any holes- how about you just grab that and follow me?" Before I could ask why, Gram had already tossed me my newly-bleached coat and walked out the door. Not wanting to get lost in the maze like halls of the fallout-shelter, I quickly propped the door back open and jogged on after him.

"Where are we going?" I whisper-shouted, sliding my arms through the sleeves of my coat and trying to get my belt situated. Gram pointed up at the ceiling.

"Outside. We're going to go for a little walk."

I didn't question him any further. My boots were still sitting untied and unbuckled at the bottom of the exit ladder, so I hooked the laces to my belt and climbed up after Gram in my socks. There was an airtight hatch at the top of the ladder, which popped open with a satisfying, "Whoosh!" as Gram hit the big red button on the way up.

"Watch your step up here- the top rung's slippery." I nodded in acknowledgement as Gram pulled himself up through the hatch. He knelt down and stuck out his arm to me as I reached the top few rungs, so I grabbed on with both hands and let myself be hauled up into the cool morning air. Surprisingly, it was still dark outside- I'm pretty sure I could even see a couple of stars glimmering behind the grey autumn clouds. I rubbed my eyes to adjust to the change in light, and Gram shut the hatch behind us. There was a little leaf-pattern mat next to the hatch that I think was supposed to act as a cover, but he didn't bother putting it on.

"So, where we walking to?" I asked, kneeling down and forcing my right foot into my undersized boot. Gram removed a cigar from his pocket.

"Nowhere- I just thought it'd be best if we had this conversation away from everyone else." I glanced over my shoulder, and saw the glow of a freshly-lit cigar wash over his face. After a moment, he put the lighter lighter back in his jacket. "Promise not to talk to anyone else about this?"

"No," I said, almost immediately. Gram raised an eyebrow at me.

"Say again?"

"No, I can't promise that I'll keep quiet about it. I probably won't tell Tandi, but I talk to Savanna about everything. I'm sorry." Gram looked perplexed. He took a puff of his cigar, then shook his head at me.

"How the hell did you survive long enough to grow that stubble on your chin, eh?" He muttered. He turned around, and started walking away from me. "You're a real good kid, Isaac- I hope you grow out of it one day."

I had finally finished up putting on my boots at this point, so I scrambled to catch up to him. He was a surprisingly fast walker, for how old he was; most ghouls from before the war were in wheelchairs now. He was only a little bit taller than me, and yet I had to do a ridiculous little jog-run to keep up with him.

"Hey- could we slow it down a bit? I ain't feeling like running right now!" I snapped, trying to keep the pain out of my voice as my still-sore gunshot wound started to cramp up. Immediately, Gram adjusted his pace, sinking down from a power-walk to an easy swagger. I gave him a nod of acknowledgement.

"Thanks."

"Don't bother."

From where I stood, I could see an abandoned, bombed-out farmhouse just down the road, sitting up against the massive hill that we had scaled to get here. I couldn't see much farther than that, on account of all the fog hanging around, but I was pretty sure that I saw the outline of the massive rock-crushing plant somewhere in the mist, which is where Gram had us walking. To my disappointment, The Lucky-38 was nowhere in sight.

"So, what did you bring me out here for that's so secret?

"It ain't no secret. It's just sensitive. So, before I tell you, I'm gonna ask again: Would you mind keeping your trap shut about it?" I considered that for a second. On one hand, I was not ever to be trusted with confidential information. On the other hand, if it wasn't exciting to me, and it didn't come up in conversation, then I probably wouldn't feel compelled to bring it up.

"Is it a cool secret?" I asked, eventually. Gram shook his head.

"No. It isn't." I remained silent. He didn't sound like he was lying, but I could never be sure with people like him. I started considering his offer again…

"Jesus Christ, Isaac, make up your mind- yes or no?"

"Yes."

"Yes you'll keep quiet about this?"

"Mhm." Gram sighed in relief.

"Good. I'm glad that we're clear." I think I might have been stressing Gram out at this point, because he was definitely putting that cigar between his lips more than usual. I didn't usually see him like this.

"Is something wrong?" I asked. Gram stopped walking. After a few seconds, he shook his head.

" _Nah._ Nothing's _wrong,_ exactly. Nothing specific. I just feel like I'm… losing control, here. Like, maybe this whole job was a bad idea. You dig?" Gram took one more puff of his cigar, then started coughing hideously. With his deep, grating voice, he sounded more like he was throwing up than coughing. Startled and confused, I tried to offer him a hand, but he pushed me away.

"I'm fine! I'm fine!" He insisted, then doubled over and started violently hacking again. I curled my fingers into my palms.

"Are you sure?" I asked. Gram cleared his throat and beat his chest a couple of times. I saw him wince as he tried to stand up straight again.

"Yeah- yeah, just gimme a second- ah, hell!" Almost immediately, Gram collapsed onto the ground and kept coughing, loud and dry and without any sign of stopping. I knelt down beside him.

"How about we sit and talk for a while? We can walk when you're feeling better," I suggested, once the hurricane of coughs finally subsided. Gram let out a tortured laugh.

"Ha! Maybe- maybe that ain't a bad idea…" I sat down behind Gram, and he grunted and propped himself up against my back. A little cloud of the funny-smelling cigar smoke curled around the back of Gram's head.

"Well, _like I was saying_ , It just feels like everything's going sour. We keep getting delayed, somebody wants me dead, and a couple of us got shot up the other day when that NCR lady who I was supposed to meet turned out to be a no-show. At this point, I don't even know if I'm still on for the shipment _!"_ I noticed that Gram was looking over his shoulder at me. I clasped my hands together nervously. "These are some dangerous roads ahead, Isaac, and I don't want to lose any of my guys on a dead-end job. If you wanna bail out, now's the time."

My eyes went wide. _Bail out?_ As in, "leave"? I shook my head.

"Hell no! Why would I leave at this point? _How_ would I leave at this point? In what way is this the time for me to be calling quits?" I had a bunch of other questions, but that summed it up pretty well. _What was Gram getting at here?_

"Why don't you listen to my offer first? Once I lay it all out in front of you, I think you may find it a little more tempting," said Gram, jabbing me in the shoulder with his smoldering cigar. I flinched away from the heat.

"No- my mind is made up. This just don't make sense to me! It won't work! You can, "lay it out," for me all that you want, but I ain't giving up on mom!"

"I'd still help her if you decided to leave, Isaac." My breath caught in my throat.

" _What_?" I demanded. Gram put out his cigar against his jacket.

"I'm sayin', I won't cancel our contract just because you leave. I've got some plans for you in the future, and none of those work if you die doing this stupid job."

"But how would I get home?"

"If you decide you want to leave, we can stop at Novac and let you off there. I know some guys there who owe me some little favors, and carting your ass back to Primm ain't exactly a hard job." I considered his offer for a moment. It was a _good_ offer- I got to go home to mom, Gram got my mom the help that she needed, and in return, I owed him some work in the future. There was just one problem:

"What about Savanna? Can she come with me?" I asked, although I knew full well what the answer was before I even opened my mouth. Gram shook his head.

"Nope. Cook's contract ends with her getting to New Vegas. I already signed her on to work as an intern accountant for some weapons dealers- Silver Rush, I think they're called. It wouldn't make sense for either of us if I sent her somewhere else." I sighed. _This complicated things._

"A week or two ago, I for-sure would have taken that offer. But, I kinda fell in love with Savanna since then, and I don't want anything to happen to her because I wasn't there. Like, I know she can handle herself, but what if we get ambushed again?" Gram didn't seem surprised with my response. He gave me a little shrug.

"I wouldn't worry about Cook. Tandi takes good care of her," he replied. I elbowed him in the side.

"Yeah, but _you_ fucking don't! I've only known her for like, two weeks, and I already call her by her name. You still calling her, "Cook," after all these years makes me wonder how much you care about her!" Gram didn't seem offended at that. Annoyed, but not offended. He gave me the side-eye.

"Hey, cool it, kid, I care about her just as much as any of my employees! We just don't really "jive," so to speak, so we're a little distant. I lead, she does all the boring shit that I'm too old to do. As long as we've got that going, I promise that I'll do my best to keep her from getting shot."

I wasn't sure what to say to that. The more I thought about it, the more I was beginning to realize that Gram had probably gone through thousands of "Friends" in his many years of living, and that treating each person like an individual probably got pretty hard after a while. _Enemies, Allies, and insignificants._ Everyone fell into one of those three categories for people like him, or so I rationalized. I started thinking about how he acted back at Bonnie Springs…

"Hey Gram- remember when you killed those raiders back there, with the laser gun?" Gram continued to look annoyed. He took his lighter out of his pocket and thumbed the fire-switch.

"What about it?" he grumbled, as the fire sprang up in his hands. I looked away from him.

"Did you… _feel_ anything? Did it hurt you, when you did it?" My heart stood still as his eyes searched me up and down. I had started thinking about myself- about how _I'd_ felt, turning around and leaving those raiders to die. _How I hadn't felt._ Gram sighed heavily.

"Why do gotta ask me all these tough questions, Isaac? You think you're better than me?" I looked at him again and shook my head. I couldn't explain it to him, but my question wasn't coming from a place of indignation; I didn't fear those night black eyes, twinkling in the light of the flame. Really, I was looking for understanding. Not the loving, healing kind of understanding that Savanna had given me, but the honest kind. _The kind that hurts…_

There was a gust of wind, and the flame winked out of existence. Gram's wrinkled face went dark again.

Slowly, he shook his head.

"No," he said. I let myself exhale. "I didn't feel a thing. And you didn't either, judging by the look on your face-"

"That's not true!" I interjected. I kicked angrily at the sand beneath my feet. "I felt angry! I felt confused, and sick to my stomach. I felt all that dumb stuff that you're supposed to feel when somebody gets melted in front of you…" Slowly, Gram pulled himself up to his feet. He stared down at me, emotionless.

"But you didn't feel bad, did you? Didn't want to help them?" I fought off the tears. I had pretended- told myself that I didn't know where to start, that there was nothing I could do to help. But I didn't want to pretend anymore.

"No. Not really, anyways."

Gram smiled, and the tears stopped coming- _He understood._ I should have felt horrified, but I didn't. _I was done pretending now._ He stuck out his hand to help me out, and I took it. If I was a monster for not feeling like I used to, then at least I wasn't alone.

"It's okay- a lotta people stop feeling, eventually. You're in good company here," said Gram. He put his hand on my shoulder. "I stopped giving a shit after the bombs dropped. For Tandi, it was way back in Kiev…"

"And what about Savanna?" I asked, a little bit desperately. Gram shrugged.

"What about her?"

"Do you think she still feels bad?" Gram took his hand off my shoulder. He seemed to think about it for a moment.

"Maybe," he concluded. I wiped the cold sweat from my brow. "Like I said, we ain't too close. Seems like the kinda thing you oughta talk to your dame about yourself." I nodded. Something had been stirring in my chest- worry, I think. I hated to think that there was a violent part of Savanna that I didn't understand, or even know about, yet. I might not have been able to keep any of my secrets for more than a week, but Savanna was a lot subtler than me.

"Either way, Isaac, you ain't alone. I get what you're going through. Just stick with me, and you'll turn out better for it. Promise." He flashed me a sly grin. I grinned back, not because I felt like I had to, but because that sounded suspiciously like something that a mentor figure would say. _A father._

"I think I've made up my mind about your offer," I said. Gram raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"I'm staying. I'm a lot of things, but I ain't a little bitch no more." For the first time since I'd met him, Gram laughed- not that dark little chuckle, but a real, powerful _laugh!_ He clapped me on the shoulder.

"Son, you've just filled this old man's heart with pride! I knew I had the right idea when I took you on!" I should have hated him for saying that, but I just laughed- _damn right he did!_ And, when he suddenly stopped smiling and pulled a barking-iron out of his coat, I didn't even flinch. I was loving the moment so much that a bullet through the brain couldn't have wiped the smile off my face.

"What's the gun for?" I asked, as Gram swung out the cylinder and spun it around. He flicked it back in, and pointed it directly at my chest.

"For you."

So, remember that thing I said, about not being a "little bitch" anymore? Well, that was probably a lie. I think I about pissed myself as Gram pulled the trigger, and the revolver kicked up in his hand…

"Bang!" shouted Gram. The smile returned to his face. Eventually, it returned to mine as well, as I looked myself up and down and realized that I didn't have no holes in me. Gram put his hand on my shoulder again.

"No, but really- the gat's for you. If you're gonna roll with me all the way to Vegas, you need to start going heeled, packing some heat. No more of this, "do no harm" bullshit, people are gonna get shot; only difference is who's pulling the trigger." Gram took the gun by the muzzle, and passed it off to me. It was a tiny little thing, a hammerless six-shooter with a 2 inch barrel and a blue rubber grip. I took it gingerly.

"You reckon I'm gonna have to kill anyone with it?" I asked. Gram nodded somberly.

"Could be. That thing is a deadly weapon. You better treat it like one." I gave the gun a hard stare; it didn't _feel_ like a deadly weapon. It was small even in my hands, and it didn't have an obvious mechanism by which it fired. Just a trigger, and a perfectly round hole at the end. I couldn't imagine shattering someone's soul with the thing.

"...I'll try and keep that in mind. 'Figure that the jury's still out on violence, but I ain't my dad. If anyone tries to hurt any of y'all, then I'll shoot em in the face and feel bad about it later," I said, brushing aside my coat and shoving the gun into my waistband with the casual assurance that it wasn't loaded. Gram took his hand off my shoulder and looked me up and down. _Tiny_ , _shirtless, khakis hiking way up my crotch…_ I probably looked like the world's most autistic cowboy, which, to be fair, I guess I was now. He smiled and shook his head.

"...Or, maybe you won't."

"Feel bad, or pull the trigger?"

"Could be either, Isaac. Could be either."

Gram turned around, and began to walk back towards the bunker. I turned to watch him go, only to be blinded by the rising sun- somehow, I hadn't even noticed the gradual shift in light as it burst through the morning fog and painted the Mojave in all it's brilliant oranges and yellows and reds.

"We going back now?" I asked. Gram didn't respond; I guess he was done answering my stupid questions. I walked the rest of the way in contented silence, with my new friend at my hip and a new spark behind those broken glasses.

I kept quiet when I came back inside the bunker. I snuggled back up with my sleeping lover. And for better or for worse, I never told a soul what went down on that misty morning, as the sun rose above the sandy wastes.

[+]


	20. The Gulch

(+)20

2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

5700 BYTES FREE

HOLLOW TAPE LOADED: "THE-GULCH"

INITIALISING…

SUCCESS!

**STATUS**

Battery Level: 76%

Wireless Signal: (?)

Operating Temperature: 92F

**HEALTH**

BP: 130/90

SPO2: 100%

Temp: 98.5F

RR: 14

HR: 80

**WARNING: GALLBLADDER ABSENT!**

**TIME**

Day: 2 October 2279

Time: 18:32

**CLIMATE**

Current Temperature: 66F

Atmospheric Pressure: 726 mmHG

* * *

It was late in the afternoon, and Gram, Savanna and I were all sitting around the cart on the roadside, doing whatever it was that we had decided to do while Tandi examined that heat signature on the horizon that she swore she saw. If I remember right, I was sipping some freshly-made agave juice when Tandi suddenly tensed up and motioned for us to hit the ground. Knowing better than to ask why, everyone dropped what they were doing and went prone. Tandi stuck out her hand at Savanna.

"Savvy- Binoculars!"

Wordlessly, Savanna reached into her satchel and handed Tandi her pair of black folding binoculars. Everyone held their breath as Tandi held them up to her visor and scanned the rock-crushing plant on the horizon for a few seconds, then lowered them and turned to face the group. She sighed through her gas-mask.

"I was right. Enemies up ahead," she said. Gram took off his hat.

"No shit? I thought dicking around in that bunker all week would get those guys off our tail!" Tandi shook her head.

"Nah, not raiders- those is _death-claws_. Whole family of em, blocking off this road."

We all let out a collective groan of disappointment. This whole routine was becoming depressingly familiar _._ Despite my fear for the very real threat up ahead, I raised my head up to look at Tandi.

"How far are they? Do you think you could get them from here?" I asked. I could practically _hear_ Tandi smirking underneath her mask.

"Can I? Comrade, this is _target practice_! Overcast, no mirage, no rain… Haven't gotten any shots this clear since I wasted that woman down in Reno." Tandi started to remove the funky green rifle from her back. Almost immediately, Gram scrambled up to his knees and put a halting hand on Tandi's shoulder.

"Hey, hey! Remember what happened last time you played this game?" Tandi ignored him, falling into a shooting stance and bracing the butt of her rifle against the ground. She began to adjust the scope. "If I'm remembering this right, I had to hold open your chest for you. And that was just one deathclaw- you seriously think you can down a whole pack before one of them gets here? You _missed,_ Tandi!"

Tandi snapped her head around to glare at Gram. Savanna stuck her arm out to protect me.

"I didn't _miss!_ He just didn't die!" spat Tandi. Her voice was weak and raspy from the surgery, but it still gave me chills when she shouted. "And I learned my lesson! This time, I'm killin' em all _right_ in their fucking brains."

"And I'm very proud of you! Now put a sock in it and stow that gun away before you get us all killed!" If Gram thought that his words alone were going to stop Tandi from doing what she did best, then he was dead wrong. Tandi looked through her scope again, adjusted the range, and then fell into a shooting stance. I could hear her breath hitch as she steadied her scope.

"Tandi, you don't have to do this. I'd feel a lot better if we just went back the way we came," said Savanna, crawling up beside Tandi and nodding towards the road behind us. Tandi sighed irritably and lowered her rifle.

"Alright, pussy. I ain't feeling like arguing with _both_ of you right now." Savanna looked at me and winked. Still afraid to try out my historically unsuccessful wink, I just smiled nervously in response.

"Great- that is fine, all fine by me! Now, let's just backtrack a little, do some off-roading over by sloan, and go through the gulch to highway-95. _Capisce_?" That sounded like a pleasant enough idea to me, but Savanna's face fell as soon as Gram mentioned the gulch. I looked around at the group and tried to figure out if he'd just made some sort of an inside joke or something.

"What's wrong with the gulch?" I asked. Gram shrugged.

"Nothing! It's got enough offshoots that we should be able to lose any raiders who are still following us, and I guarantee you that it's deathclaw-free." Tandi clucked disapprovingly.

"Don't listen to him- if he actually gave a shit about us, we'd go all the way back down through Nipton. Going through that gulch is fucking stupid," she said. Savanna nodded conspiratorially.

"Yeah- you know what they call that place?" I shook my head. "Well, there's a lot of names for it. But, in my first tribe, we just called it, "Scorpion valley." Think you can guess why we called it that?" I considered that for a moment. I couldn't think of a lot of reasons why you would call a place, "Scorpion valley," so I went with the most obvious answer I could think of:

"Is it because it's got a bunch of scorpions in it?" Tandi snorted. Savanna held up a finger to correct me.

"Close: we named it that because it has a bunch of _rad-_ scorpions in it." I tried not to look surprised.

"Oh," I said. I glanced over my shoulder, just to be sure that one of the things hadn't popped up behind me. " _Oh…"_

' _Oh' indeed, Isaac!_ That little three-letter word- "rad," might have meant something groovy in the '70s, but when you put it behind some sort of nasty insect, it meant trouble. I wasn't super well versed about wasteland creatures past the borders of dear-old-Primm, but everyone and their aunties had heard horror stories about rad-scorpions from some traveler or another. And if I recalled correctly, the Mojave was home to some truly horrible specimens. Horrible enough that I was willing to risk another short delay to avoid dealing with them...

"How long would it take us to go the Nipton route?" I asked, hoping to stir up some support in that direction. Savanna tapped her finger against the screen of her borrowed pip-boy.

"Fourteen days, assuming that poor Flebe makes it through the infection in his leg, and we don't run into any other trouble. I ran the calculations last night," she replied. I exchanged a nervous look with Gram. _Fourteen days…_

"That won't work," said Gram, almost immediately. I nodded.

"Yeah- I'm on a little bit of timer too, and fourteen days sounds pretty bad. Y'all ever seen how fast an aggressive cancer can progress in that time?" Gram and Savanna both looked sympathetic. Tandi just seemed confused.

"Hold up- have you got _the cancer_? That's why you're risking your dorky little ass to get to those stupid hippies?" She asked, pulling off her mask to look me in the face. _Whoops._ To be honest, I'd completely forgotten about leaving Tandi out of the loop on that whole thing; Now that I knew what her deal was, I couldn't really be suspicious of her anymore. I shook my head.

"Nah, but my mom does. She won't get her own help, so I'm trying to find her a real doctor before she kicks the bucket." Tandi was taken aback, I think. Her face was even harder to read than a normal person's. "Sorry for not telling you. I just kinda thought that one of these folks would've clued you in by now..."

"They didn't." I looked around for someone to pipe up in my defense, but no one did. I wasn't really sure what to say, so I stuck out my hand to Tandi.

"Sorry?" I offered, grinning hopelessly. Tandi stooped over to look at me, but she didn't shake my hand.

"You should've told me sooner," she replied. I tried to look at her eyes so that I could figure out how she was feeling, but she stared defiantly into my forehead. I was starting to get worried.

"I mean, if you want to talk about it, I could-"

"I don't."

Tandi turned her chin up and brushed past me. I started to stand up.

"-Hey, where the hell are you going!?" I demanded. Tandi shot me an irritable glare, then put on her mask and kept on walking up the road. She threw her rifle back over her shoulder.

"Scorpion gulch, I guess! Wouldn't want any of you ballerinas to be late to your fuckin, doctor's appointments…" Tandi trailed off. I almost kept pushing it, but I guess Savanna noticed because, as I opened my mouth, she gave me a look that told me to keep it shut. She was right, of course- Pushing Tandi usually had consequences, and I wasn't in the mood for consequences. By the way that the rest of us packed up in silence and followed Tandi's lead when she kept on stalking back down the road, I don't think anyone else was either.

_Tandi was a strange person._ More than anyone else in the group, the venerable ranger worried me because I never knew what was going to set her off.

_-Break-_

"…Aaaanndd, I believe that _this_ is Scorpion Gulch! I hope you brought anti-venom, because things might get _messy,_ " said Gram, smiling and throwing out his arms against the opening of the gulch on the dark horizon. I looked down guiltily at my wide-open jump bag- I _had,_ in fact, brought a variety of anti-venoms, but none of them were labeled and I hadn't refrigerated the liquid ones since I left home. I can't imagine that any of them still worked.

"Well, half of the damn things are just these stupid mirelurk blood remedies, which never fuckin work, and the other half are expired. So, how 'bout nobody gets stung, and we don't have to test that theory?" I murmured, brandishing my trusty drainage syringe above Savanna's blistered right foot. For some reason, she wouldn't stop moving her leg around, which made it really hard to keep the flashlight beam on the blister in question. I shifted my weight, and tried again to get everything angled just right-

"-Ooh! Did you know that they've been using mirelurk blood to test the sterility of vaccines? Apparently, because it uses hemocyanin instead of hemoglobin, it's got some really strong antibacterial properties!" said Savanna, suddenly jerking her leg once again. I wiped the sweat off of my brow. _What?_

"That's... _really interesting,_ Savanna! Why don't you just hold real still, and tell me some more about that?" Savanna looked delighted. More importantly, she also stopped moving her leg as she stopped to recount her story, which gave me time to move in for the kill. I started to drain the abscess.

"Well, it was one of the last projects that my dad told me about before he disappeared. Apparently, their blood is really special- it's this bright blue color, because it uses a copper-based system to carry oxygen instead of an iron one. It's so sensitive to bacteria that it clots up when harmful bacteria are at like, _one part in one trillion._ Plus, the whole process happens in less than a minute! Isn't that cool?" I removed the syringe from the abscess, squirted out the liquid, then readjusted my flashlight and got started on the next one. Of course, it was kind of hard to focus now, because in the course of trying to ignore her, I'd become genuinely interested. I couldn't personally think of any ways that something like that mirelurk blood could actually be useful, but then again, I wasn't a scientist. Those properties, at least, were pretty damn interesting!

"Why do you reckon it's like that? And, how come our blood _ain't?_ That'd make my job like, ten times easier!" I remarked. All this talk about anti-bacterial blood had reminded me that we were almost out of Stimpacks, and that I needed to start doing _real_ doctor things; without the powerful antibiotic effect that stimpacks automatically delivered, that would mean disinfecting wounds, and wrapping everything in surgical gauze. Tandi glared over her shoulder.

"Because you are both _nerds_ ," interjected Tandi, who had been slumping silently against the side of the cart since we stopped. Savanna ignored her.

"Evolution. The current theory is that mirelurks are direct descendants of Atlantic horseshoe crabs, which have been around for basically forever. They've had a long time to get stuff like that working perfectly," she replied. She seemed to think for a moment. "Last I heard, they were using it to make sure that all sorts of injected medicines were sterile, and I'm pretty sure I heard talk of engineering a human-blood substitute using some of its properties. Wouldn't that be badass?"

"Damn straight it would! Like I said, my job would be way easier if our blood was that good at fighting disease…" I removed the syringe for the fourth and final time, then carefully plucked out the tainted needle and buried it in the, "to-clean" pocket of my bag. Savanna looked back down at me.

"Oh, is that it? The blisters definitely feel a lot better." I shook my head.

"Nah, I gotta get some band-aids and bug-juice on there. That's always the kind of shit that gets infected out here." Savanna nodded understandingly.

"Makes sense. Is that penicillin that I smell?"

"Yeah- I made it myself! The NCR might be too cool for the moldy-bread method, but I ain't." As soon as I'd rubbed the sharp-smelling ointment on, I grabbed a roll of gauze from the pack and began wrapping it around the site of each blister, eventually tying off the long white strip at her ankle. I gave it a quick pull to make sure it was secure.

"You kids done with that yet? If it's all the same, I'd rather we got this little run started and finished before the sun rises tomorrow," said Gram, as he loaded up one of his many hidden revolvers with a fresh set of bullets. Savanna and I exchanged a look.

"Aren't rad-scorpions nocturnal?" asked Savanna. Tandi shook her helmet.

"They only come out during the day. The desert rangers have trained them to **fear** the night." Savanna rolled her eyes.

"Please- they aren't intelligent enough to correlate cause and effect, and even simple evolution takes a ton of generations. If they're nocturnal, the NCR has nothing to do with it." Laughing darkly, Tandi slid the bolt of her rifle back into its chamber. It made one of those menacing gun-noises as she cycled it down.

" _You've_ never been shot at by a desert ranger."

Savanna looked away in contempt. Tandi just kept playing with her rifle, unnecessarily adjusting her already perfectly zeroed scope some more while I finished dressing up Savanna's blisters. Gram started to saddle up on Hebe, the less injured of the two (Four?) Brahmin. Poor Flebe had a pretty serious infection in her left front leg, and penicillin hadn't helped much. I was beginning to worry about her- if we had to dash again, I had no doubt that we were going to need to either put her down or let her go. Based on Savanna's, "use everything, waste nothing," attitude as the sole food and livestock manager, I was unfortunately assuming the former.

"Alright- Isaac, Tandi, pack up your shit, we're going! Savanna, I want you with Tandi- Isaac, you and me are gonna stick together. If anything happens, I'll let Flebe loose, you two split and run. You got my heater, right Tandi?" Tandi briefly set down her rifle, and pulled out Gram's short little laser-blaster, now free of its stock and dangling from her belt. Gram nodded approvingly.

"Good. Now, let's go- you two stay close, but not so close that we can hear you walking. These guys can sense vibrations, and it helps if we ain't all clustered up like this."

And so, our orders were received. Savanna slipped back into her boots and started to stand up, but I stopped her before she could go anywhere.

"Whoa, hold up a second- kiss before we go?" Savanna smirked.

"Isaac, we're going to be like, thirty feet apart. We don't need to do a kiss goodbye."

"Yeah, but what if something actually happens? If we split up, we might not see each other for a while..."

I don't think that idea sat well with Savanna, because I wasn't even done talking when she leaned forward and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. I put my arms around her and pulled her up against me, because now I had that pit in my stomach, and I was worrying a bunch, and I just wanted to stay with her the whole damn time...

"I love you," I said. Savanna laid her head on shoulder.

"I love you too. No dying, right?"

"I won't if you won't." Suddenly, Savanna broke free of the embrace, and gave me a little punch in the ribcage. I reared back in surprise.

" _No_ , you won't even if I do! You worry about yourself first, okay?" I gave her a non committal nod of assent.

"I'll… try."

_No promises on that one, Savanna._ We hugged one more time, and then kissed, and then took our things and drifted our separate ways. Gram kept motioning for me to hurry as I gathered up my supplies into my bag and jogged to catch up to him, my orange jump-bag bobbing and swinging by its worn strap. When I got within spitting distance, he pointed at my coat, and did a little finger-gun thing.

"Is your gat loaded?" He asked. Without even thinking, I nodded- six .38 special rounds, loaded in by yours truly that very morning. Gram beckoned me closer so that he could pat me on the head from atop his mount. "Good boy. You see anything move, you shoot first and ask questions later, alright? You gonna watch my back?"

"Like a hawk!" I replied. The spit on Gram's decaying teeth twinkled in the moonlight as he smiled at me.

"Great! You must be the most adaptable kid I've ever taken on." Just to be sure, I pulled the revolver out of my coat, and checked the cylinder before we walked any further. Sure enough, six shiny bullets twinkled in the dark.

"...Yeah. I've been told I'm a fast learner." I holstered my weapon. Up ahead, Tandi and Savanna were already entering the terrifying gulch, their mismatched silhouettes disappearing into the dark more quickly than I could process. I took a deep breath, and got ready for my tiny little frame to disappear into the inky blackness, led only by Gram's supposed geographical knowledge...

See, this is the part where I'd usually say, " _What could possibly go wrong_?" and it still wouldn't be funny or clever, because _everything always goes wrong,_ obviously. But, you know what? I ain't feeling it anymore. From now on, I'm going to use only wholly original foreboding comments to signify a transition:

_At least it ain't raining._

-Break-

We had just reached a big, circular clearing in the narrow gulch, and it was _absolutely pissing down rain._ That probably would have bothered me if my stomach weren't already fluttering with fear. I didn't see any lightning but, every once in a while, a deep, rolling thunderclap would roll over us, echoing up the steep walls of the narrow gulch and shaking me to the bone. Struggling to make my way in the dark, I reached out and touched Hebe's leg…

"Who's touching my hand?" Startled, I drew back my hand and looked up to see Gram, sitting hunched over atop Hebe, with an umbrella in one hand and a cigar in the other. I sighed with relief.

"Uh, just me. Sorry, this place makes me jumpy." Gram grumbled some pleasant reassurances under his breath. I felt a little well of heat spring up beside me as Gram lit his cigar, and cupped his hand around the smoking tip. He waited for the deep orange glow to fade. "You reckon we're almost out of here?"

"Almost. Once we get outta this clearing, the exit is just a straight shot down the gulch, and I know a good place where we can set up camp when we get out," said Gram, smoke curling out from between his lips as he spoke. I nodded.

"Yeah. And, uh, those things that are moving over there, are those the other guys? Cause I thought they were on the left?"

Gram suddenly sat bolt upright, and his hand went to his hip. Before I could think about it, we had both drawn our weapons, and pointed them at the shadowy mass on our right.

Gram jumped down behind me, and my vision narrowed- _I was doing this!_ As soon as Gram's iron went off, I let out an inane war-cry and squeezed off a shot down range, and then another, which made the rain jump up in a ring with each blast of the muzzle. After a few seconds, the dark mass split into two masses, and I began to wonder if I had made a mistake.

"Wait, shit, I think that's them!" I shouted. Gram lowered his pistol.

"You sure? Because-" Suddenly, the cart's water-barrel burst open, and started spraying me with its contents. I threw myself to the ground and covered my face as the water drummed on top of my helmet, and the gunfire pounded on.

"We're friendly! It's us!" Shouted Gram, jumping up and waving his arms. I can't imagine that anyone could hear him over the rain, and the rolling thunder and the leaking barrel and explosive gunfire. I guess someone _saw_ him, though, because the gunshots stopped almost immediately.

"IS THAT YOU!?" Bellowed Tandi, from across the clearing. I cupped my hands around my mouth.

"WHO THE FUCK ELSE?!" I shouted back. Gram stooped over and picked up his fallen cigar.

"...What a waste," he muttered, and flicked the little thing back over his shoulder. Through the darkness and the downpour, I could see the outlines of Tandi and Savanna converging on us. The red glow of Tandi's visor was now visible, which made me wonder how I hadn't seen it before. _Had she had it turned off?_

"What just happened!? Are we actually shooting at something!?" shouted Savanna, climbing atop a little closer of boulders and looking down at us. I waved at her.

"Hi Savanna! No, we were just very confused! Why wasn't Tandi's visor on?" As if on cue, Tandi appeared beside Savanna, and snatched the pistol out of her hand. She shoved it into her coat.

" _Debil!_ How come I'm the only one here who isn't fucking stupid?" Tandi's crimson gaze wandered towards me. I smiled sheepishly. "And, to answer your question, _fuckwit,_ my night vision was off because I'm being subtle! If y'all would have waited for a second before shooting at me, we could've stayed that way." Tandi made a move to snatch the iron from my hand, but I stuck it in my waistband before she could grab it. She laughed menacingly.

"Oh, ain't you a cocky little shitbird? I swear to god, if you put any holes in me with that thing, I'm going to skullfuck your corpse!" I gave Tandi a big grin. In response, she jabbed me right in the sternum with her palm and started walking back over to Savanna, who was still just standing there looking bewildered. I snapped my fingers.

"Ah, but wait- if that was you, and you were to our _right,_ then what was that to our left?"

Everyone froze.

"What?" asked Gram. Before I could explain, Hebe let out a sudden, primal scream and jerked into Gram, who went toppling forward beside me. I stared on in shock.

"Wait, are we-?" I was interrupted by an earth-shattering cracking noise and a sudden wave of unbearable heat as the _car-sized_ scorpion in front of my was briefly lit a brilliant red, and then immediately shrouded in an explosion of steam. Behind us, a whole column of rocks tumbled into the clearing, shaking the ground like a tiny little earthquake. I looked up at Tandi.

"Are we- do we-"

"WHAT!?"

"ARE WE SPLITTING UP!?"

"HELL NO!" Tandi pointed towards the exit with her laser-gun. "RUN! Get out!" I wanted to listen to her, but I'd lost sight of Savanna in the rapidly-expanding cloud of fog. I desperately tried to wipe the condensation from my glasses, but it just kept coming back. I felt my throat tighten up.

"No. No, no, _nonono-_ "

"-MOVE!" Tandi hit me _hard_ in my entire front half, and I was sent tumbling violently over the wet, rocky ground. Something unfamiliar brushed past me as I tried to sit up.

"...Savanna, is that you?" I mumbled, taking off my fogged-up glasses and squinting at the thing in front of me. All six of its eyes blinked in response.

Words can't describe the pathetic series of noises that I made as I threw myself out of the way of the gigantic, primally terrifying stinger, and then hauled ass out of there as fast as I could. I heard the scorpion shriek behind me.

"GO AWAY!" I shrieked back, as I emerged from the all-encompassing fog. Up ahead, the cart was already nearing the exit channel, and I could see Savanna stumbling a ways behind.

I took a deep breath, and sprinted after them.

"Is- is Tandi okay?" panted Savanna, as I came running up behind her. I threw up my arms.

"No idea!" Savanna was being slow, so I latched onto her slippery hand and started physically dragging her forward. Another wave of blistering heat came washing through the gulch as we exited the clearing, and into the narrow exit-channel. Something with the consistency of a rotten-watermelon crunched under my foot as I dragged Savanna in with me.

"Straight shot from here, right?" I asked. Savanna took out one of her earplugs.

"What?"

"Are we gonna go straight now?" Savanna nodded.

"Yeah, we're almost out! I've been keeping track of distance." Sure enough, the unmistakable lights of the distant New-Vegas on the open-horizon became visible as soon as we came around the next little bend. The cart was nowhere to be seen, so I assumed that they had gotten out.

"Thank sweet baby Jesus," I breathed, stopping for a moment to stoop over and clutch at my aching chest. I'd sucked in so much rain, and my body was so hot, and we were _so damn close,_ I figured that I was allowed to catch a breath.

Suddenly, another wave of heat washed through the gulch, and it was accompanied again by the deep cracking of rocks in the distance. Only, this time, it sounded _awful_ close. I looked up the steep channel wall beside me, and saw that something at the top was moving. I backed up into Savanna.

"Whoa there, Savanna, I think that's a-!"

Before I could think to run one way or the other, Savanna had already pushed me over onto the ground, where the world behind me came crashing down like a shelled-out building. I couldn't feel anything else over the rocking of the Earth, but I remember instinctively grabbing onto my helmet and curling into a ball as the debris showered over me and the dust rose into the air. It was a wonder that none of the car-sized boulders landed on top of me.

"Savanna?" I croaked, once the rocking had subsided and the shell shock wore off. I tried to wipe the grime from my eyes, but I only made it worse- the wet skin of my hands and arms had been completely encased with dust. I tried blinking it away. "Savanna!?"

"Isaac!"

I turned around- the muffled voice was coming from the other side of the rock pile. I started searching for a place to try to scale it.

"Are you okay? Did any of the rocks hit you?" shouted Savanna. I found a good foothold, and began to climb up the barrier.

"I'm good! You alright back there?"

"I'll be okay! Just keep climbing!" I stopped in my tracks.

"Be okay? What do you- oh, _shit!_ " I grunted in pain and surprise as my foot slipped on one of the wet rocks. My arm and forehead were dragged across the jagged surface of the wall as I fell, then tumbled, back to the bottom of the apparently unscalable wall. Down the channel, I could hear something approaching.

"...Hell, Savanna, I don't know if I can climb this!" Head throbbing from the impact with the inside of the helmet, I grabbed onto another of the slippery rocks and pulled myself to my feet. I wasn't feeling steady enough to stand up on my own, so I leaned against the rock wall, and waited. _The noise was coming closer._ I reached into my waistband and drew my half empty revolver. "You go and get out of here! I'm just gonna shoot whatever comes around this corner!"

Savanna tried to say something, but all of the noise was hurting my ears- I turned off my Comtacs.

"Come and get it, you six legged _... arachnid,_ " I muttered, which was obviously a pretty desperate one-liner, seeing as how Scorpions actually have eight legs, or else they wouldn't be arachnids. In the moonlight, a shadow began to emerge from around the corner. I raised my six-gun, and lined up the glowing radium sights...

_BANG!_ The fleeting fireball that sprung from the tip of my revolver lit up the whole chasm for a brief moment, allowing me to see Tandi's gigantic form before everything went dark again. Tandi flicked on her night vision visor again.

"That ain't how you _shoot_!" She snapped, kicking off the corner and sprinting in a straight line towards me. Behind her, a scorpion the size of a coffee-table emerged, and then another, and _another_. I lined up my sights to shoot again, but before I could pull the trigger, Tandi had already grabbed me by the stomach and swept me up over her shoulders. I clung on for dear life as she clawed her way up the wet rocks. When we reached the top of the formation, she jammed her knife between two rocks and used it as a foothold, allowing her to climb over the massive, slick boulder at the top. She vaulted over the edge.

"Oh, you're alive- Oh, thank god!" shouted Savanna, breathing all heavy and clutching at her chest like she'd just been screaming. Tandi got down on one knee and dumped me in a heap on the ground.

"Nice to see you too, _Savvy._ Fucking _run_!" Savanna ignored her, and helped me up off the ground. Her forehead was covered in blood, I noticed- not a terrible sign on its own, because head wounds bleed like hell, but seeing all that blood all over her still made me sick to my stomach. I gently touched my hand to the back of her head.

"We're gonna get that checked out in a minute, okay? Right now, let's just get out of here." Savanna nodded.

"Okay! Is the coast clear?" she asked, as we made our way down the rapidly-expanding channel. Tandi let out an ugly horse-laugh.

"Ha _\- No."_

"How many?"

"Lots!"

Tandi unslung her rifle and checked the chamber as the three of us exited the gulch and ran out into the open together. No longer blocked by overhanging rocks or narrow walls, the rain was pelting us at full volume now, not so much washing the grime from my skin as turning it into a paste. Tandi motioned for us to stop.

"What are you doing?" I asked. A white flash of lightning lit up the scene.

"My job." The thunder rolled. Tandi unfolded her bipod, braced it against a large rock on the ground, and clicked on her flashlight. A faint white circle shone through the opening of the gulch. "I suggest that y'all step back a little."

I took Savanna's hand and did as I was asked, moving firmly out of the way of the rifle's blast-zone. The blood continued to seep out from Savanna's head, combining with the rain into pink-red streams and rivulets that ran down her face and dripped onto the ground. I tried to wipe it away with my sleeve.

"I'm okay," she insisted. I placed a finger behind her ear.

"... No battle's sign, eyes look fine, breathing ain't funny. I believe you." From out of the gulch, the first scorpion emerged, peeking it's many-eyed head up over the peak of the rock wall. Tandi took a deep breath, straightened her grip, and blew it away. It's limp, broken body tumbled ungraciously over the edge, and snapped against the ground.

Tandi cycled the bolt.

" _One_." Almost immediately, another scorpion popped up in the exact same place, and lost its brains in exactly the same way. Tandi kicked out the spent brass. " _Two._ " Three more scorpions soon emerged over the wall, and several others began to climb down from atop the fragile rock-formations that hung over the gulch. None of them even made it out of the gully.

" _Nine…"_ Tandi slotted out her empty magazine, and clicked in a new one. Behind the wall, some sort of dam seemed to have broken, and the scorpions were pouring out like water. Tandi chuckled.

" _Durak-_ you make my job easy!" she fired once again, and three of the scorpions were stricken with a sudden, deathly stillness. They kept on coming, and Tandi kept firing, kept kicking out the brass, kept cycling the bolt. As the smoking pile of brass beside her grew, so too did the pile of twitching corpses at the bottom of the wall. Still not one creature had found its way into the open.

" _Sixteen…"_ Another scorpion tumbled over the edge, and the rock wall began to crumble, causing the giant boulder on top to fall over onto the pile of corpses. The scorpions flowed out like water from a broken dam. Tandi's rifle pounded on and on.

"Twenty six! Twenty seven!" Although the scorpions were now pouring out into the open, the sniper fire pounded on. That was noise, of course, but the quiet was for more devastating- between each shot, as the scorpions drew closer, you could hear everything from the shuffling of the legs to the increasingly present death shrieks. Tandi's counting had made it better, but she had stopped at forty five. Now she was just focused, and cold, and silent.

"They're getting closer, Tandi. We should start backing up!" warned Savanna. Tandi lifted her gun off of its perch and swiveled to the left, where her flashlight revealed a group of hidden, flanking scorpions. She fired three quick shots, and they were all still.

" _Sixty four_." Tandi reloaded her rifle, cycled the bolt, and put a bullet through the brain of a scorpion directly ahead of us. Two of its brothers crawled over the body, and met their ends one after the other. I heard something coming up behind us, and turned around to see Gram, hat crumpled up and pressed against a bleeding wound on his neck. He had the cart and the sole surviving Brahmin in tow.

"Oh don't mind me, just comin' to watch the show."

Inside the gulch, the scorpions had stopped coming. All that was left now was the disorganized army still spreading across the open plane before us, rapidly advancing through the field of their brothers' corpses as if they were just rocks under their feet. Unable to get a good sight picture over all the corpses, Tandi stood up to her full, impressive height, and started firing standing up. Her leather coat whipped in the rain and the wind.

"Seventy six-" Tandi reached into her coat, and thumbed several bullets into one of her many empty magazines. She clicked it back into the gun, and resumed firing.

"Seventy seven-"

Click!

"Eighty five-"

Click!

"Ninety six-"

Click!

"One hundred and eight!"

Before us, one single, gigantic rad-scorpion was still advancing forwards, apparently undeterred by the loss of it's many comrades. We all set our eyes on it. And just like always, Tandi braced her rifle, lined up her sights, and pulled the trigger.

All I saw was a little spray of water around the barrel as the creature's many limbs went slack. I didn't even hear the shot; the only sound now was a faint ringing in my ears, and ever-present the drumming of the rain against the top of my helmet.

Tandi lowered her rifle.

"Do you see that, Isaac?" She took off her helmet. The red visor glinted off her jagged grin. " _That_ is how you shoot a gun!"

[+]


	21. The Barking Iron

(+)21

2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

4900 BYTES FREE

HOLLOW TAPE LOADED: "THE-BARKING-IRON"

INITIALISING…

SUCCESS!

**STATUS**

Battery Level: 100% (CHARGING)

Wireless Signal: (?)

Operating Temperature: 92F

**HEALTH**

BP: ?

SPO2: 92%

Temp: 98.5F

RR: 16

HR: 50

 **WARNINGS  
** Pulse: Weakened  
Airway: WARNING  
Temperature: WARNING  
Circulation: Weakened  
Blood Pressure: WARNING  
Blood PH: WARNING  
Respiration: WARNING  
Liver: Weakened  
Circulation: Weakened

**TIME**

Day: 3 October 2279

Time: 01:23

**CLIMATE**

Current Temperature: 53F

Atmospheric Pressure: 762 mmHG

Background Radiation: 1.833 RAD

**WARNINGS**

**Dangerous radiation level!**

* * *

_**Hey Mister Tambourine Man, play a song for me;** _

_**I'm not sleepy and there ain't no place I'm goin' to.** _

_**Hey Mister Tambourine Man, play a song for me,** _

_**In the jingle jangle morning, I'll come followin' you…** _

"Could you turn that off? I'm tryin' to focus!" I snapped. _Another late night, and things were falling apart faster than ever._ Tandi was off sulking, Savanna was nursing her head injury, and here I was, struggling to get an IV in on our fearless, _completely comatose_ leader's wrinkly arm in the back of the crashed NCR med-evac chopper where we'd set up camp. Savanna leaned out from the cockpit.

"Oh, but it's Bob Dylan! This song's a classic!" Her protests fell on deaf ears. I was on my sixth unsuccessful stick now, and I wasn't in the mood to pretend that I liked her stupid Folk music. I loved that girl, but we were seriously gonna need to find some middle ground with the music...

"Ha! Gotcha now, you paralyzed raisin sonofabitch!" I held up Gram's freshly stuck arm triumphantly. Despite his absolutely mystifying biology, I'd managed to feel out a juicy vein for some of that totally necessary peripheral access. Never mind that I could have just as easily gone for IO infusion directly into his humerus with the cool little drill that I'd found in one of the helicopter's many compartments- No, I was still the best phlebotomist this side of the Mojave, which meant that it my sworn duty to constantly remind myself! I started pushing the Doxapram.

"How's Gram doing back there? Do you think the venom caused any real damage?" asked Savanna. I shrugged.

"Prolly not. He's already absorbed and pissed out most of it, which makes me think he's got some sort of body-mods to help him fight this kind of thing. That'd explain why he didn't tell us that he was hit back there." My Doxapram IV was running a little slow given the low molarity of the solution, so I very gently adjusted the titration knob. " _Titrate to effect,"_ my father had always said, though in retrospect I'm pretty sure that he had been making fun of doctors like me. No matter how chaotic the situation, the pretentious fucker always manually calculated his drip rates.

Suddenly, the pip-boy on Gram's arm started beeping. I looked down at the screen, and saw a massive, blinking warning sign marking each of Gram's lungs. I groaned. The Pressure was too low, probably. I tilted his chin to make sure I had the pocket CPR mask on right, then cranked up the pressure on the helicopter's nifty CPAP machine. It wasn't an ideal ventilation setup, but it was all I could manage with the supplies in my bag and on the helicopter, and I had to do _something._ None of Gram's muscles were working well, so easing the workload of his lungs seemed like a smart idea. His weird, alien lungs...

"Do you need any help back there? It looks like-"

"I know what I'm doing, Savanna!" I shouted. Savanna looked taken aback. "Sorry. I'm stressed. Can I sit up there with you for a minute?"

"Depends. Is Gram going to die when you look away?" I started hauling myself over the cockpit-barrier.

"Nah. The pip boy does a loud thing when his vitals get too far from his baseline. Gram's whole body is always circling the drain, so even then it's sort of a crapshoot. Have I told you what his average blood PH is?" Savanna shook her head. I plopped down in my cockpit seat, raised up five fingers and a thumb. " _Six point nine!_ I tried to bring it up once, and his whole body just started freaking out on me. How is that even compatible with life?"

"It's weird, right? I'd love to find some scientific explanation for it, if there is one. I think it's kind of interesting!" said Savanna. I rubbed my aching temples.

"Well, I don't. I think it's shitty, and confusing." I slid down in my seat, until my feet were finally touching the cracked glass panel at the very end of the cockpit. It made a crunchy little noise when I tapped on it. "Honestly, this whole trip has been like that. How long til we get to Vegas?"

"Two more days. Three if we-"

"No! No more stops!" I snapped, kicking myself up off the cracked glass and sitting bolt upright in my seat. Savanna stared at me like I was some sort of wild animal.

"Damn Isaac, that's the _second_ time you've yelled at me about nothing tonight. Sorry if it's the autism speaking or whatever, but you're starting to put me off."

I grimaced- It _wasn't_ the autism speaking _,_ I was just being a major butthole. I'd already awkwardly apologized once, though, so I tried to think of something else I could say that conveyed the same message...

"Well, it's not _nothing-_ I felt like you were saying that it's okay for us to take breaks, which it ain't. Cause my mom is dying."

_Smooth, Isaac._ You'd think this realization would've gotten me to stop digging the hole, but I guess I felt committed now. Shovel in hand, I started to double down. "I mean, first there was Sloan, then that distracting night after Goodsprings-"

"That was one of the best nights of my life," interrupted Savanna. I groaned.

"Yeah, _who cares_? I ain't here for the fun it- I'm here because I was too stupid to save my own mother, so I gotta go find someone else who can do it for me! Am I not allowed to want to get it over with already?"

"Of course you are! I never suggested that you weren't!" Savanna kept staring at me, looking almost like she was about to cry. I bit my lip. "Do you need some time alone, Isaac? Because I can leave, if you want me to."

"No no- I want to talk to you. I just didn't like what you were saying, is all. I explained that," I replied, in that passive aggressive way that stupid people like to talk in. Savanna shook her head.

"But I've barely said anything. Like, I haven't even disagreed with you yet, I want to get to New Vegas too!"

"That's completely different! I'm gonna lose my mom if I don't get there soon, you're gonna lose- what- a job? What are your stakes here?"

"Four years of hard work, actually. But, that's irrelevant, because I kind of agree with you. Do you think you could stop yelling at me for a second, and let me explain what I actually think? Can I have a dialogue here?" I gave her an arm-cross of begrudging acknowledgment. After a few tense seconds of rain on the windshield, Savanna closed her eyes, exhaled, and tried to compose herself. "...Alright: Isaac, I get what you're going through, and I support your right to feel frustrated, and to want to do things a little bit faster. But, I'd expect you to be self-aware enough to realize that this is _not_ how you should handle it! One day is statistically unlikely to make any difference with a progressive illness like cancer, and your chances of surviving this go _way_ down every time we do a-"

"I can handle myself," I interrupted. Savanna sighed.

"Can you? Or have you just been insanely lucky?" I looked down in shame. Normally, I wouldn't consider myself lucky, per se, but I knew she was right: I'd only survived this long by stumbling and dodging my way through every fight. "It's okay. To be good at this, you have to be willing to kill people, and I like you just the way you are. You don't want to be like the rest of us."

I sank back down in my seat. The rain kept falling through the silence, distorting the swimming lights of New Vegas through the cracked windshield. I looked back up at Savanna.

"Have you killed people?" I asked, quietly enough that I kind of hoped she wouldn't hear me over the rain. She nodded.

"At least one." _Well, no surprises there._ To be honest, I was almost relieved to finally hear her say it. I'd known, when I looked into her eyes late at night, that she'd seen things, and done things that a good person's mind ain't meant to process. I would have been more surprised if she'd never pulled the trigger on someone; Hell, I'd only worked with Gram for a couple of weeks, and I'd already encountered situations that just couldn't have been solved without _someone_ killing someone else. It would be crazy to hold self-defence killings against her.

Still, did I really want to be cold like that? _Was I ready to kill?_

"Maybe I can handle myself without killing anyone?" I offered. Savanna smiled sadly.

"The fact that you say that tells me that you aren't ready for the risks you want to take. If we try to push ourselves to go any faster than we're already going, you're going to be the first one to go."

"I'll take that risk too! I mean, I'm okay with crazy risks, if it means I get a real shot at saving my mom."

"Well, I'm not! I hate to keep bringing this up, but you promised me that you weren't going to die! The least you can do is take one extra day to try and keep that promise."

"I don't know if I can do that," I admitted. Savanna put her hand on my shoulder.

"It's not a done deal, just an idea. More than anything right now, I just want you to be safe, and the best chance of that _might_ involve us stopping to rest and grab supplies between now and Vegas. _Maybe._ Can you deal with that?" I curled up my fists. Savanna squeezed my shoulder. "Isaac, answer my question: Can you-"

"NO!" I screamed, slamming my foot into the glass floor with all my might and punching straight through the shatter-proof pane. Savanna reared away from me.

" _Isaac_!" she shouted. I threw open the door, and jumped out into the rain. "Where are you going?"

"For a walk!" I shouted back, slamming the door behind me afterwards to make sure that I had the last word. I could feel Savanna staring at me as I stormed off the way that we'd come, angrier and more confused than I'd been in a long time.

Normally, I would've gone and drank a bunch, or snuck a bit of morphine like all the cool, cynical doctors do, but I knew that wouldn't make me feel any better. I wanted to _hurt_ something, to rip something up until I couldn't recognize it anymore…

Hell, who am I kidding? I just wanted to shoot something.

-Break-

_BANG!_

_Snap!_

Hands steady, I lined the smooth black sights back up with the poor dead scorpion in front of me. I was still unsure about the strength of the trigger, so I squeezed down on it slowly, bracing myself for the invisible hammer to strike the primer.

_BANG!_

_CrrAACK!_

The rain kicked up around my muzzle as I scored another hit, winging one of its curled legs and causing the better half of it to go flying off into the wind. Before the dust had settled, I'd already put my sights on it again, and begun pulling the trigger. I braced myself for the shock.

_BANG!_

_Fwip!_

I swore under my breath; _that was my last bullet._ The shot kicked up a cloud of rocks and sand way off to the left of the target, leaving the scorpion's broken leg swaying gently from the last shot. I pushed open the cylinder with my finger, and shook out the empty casings. They smelled like fireworks.

"Nice shot, Doc Holliday."

I whirled around, and pointed my barking-iron directly at the shadowy figure before me, a dark tower in a field of dead. Before I could even think to pull the trigger, I was lying flat on my ass, and the gun was out of my hands. I heard someone spin the cylinder above me.

"Oh, you're already empty. Did you forget to load up your _only weapon_ before you walked out into an open field at night to shoot at corpses?"

"Fuck off, Tandi!" I spat, hauling myself up out of the gravelly sand. Tandi laughed.

"Ha- You don't belong out here, comrade! Gram thinks you do, but he's dead wrong. The Mojave is going to eat you up _._ " Tandi knelt down beside me, and extended her hand. I was too wet and tired to stand up fully on my own, so I grudgingly took it, and let her pull me to my feet. The bright, stoplight-red glow of her visor made me squint, but I tried my best to look her in the eyes. "But it don't have to be that way. I know how to fix you." Tandi offered me my iron, presenting it to me grip first. I grabbed onto it and pulled it back towards my body, but Tandi wouldn't let go. She jabbed me in the pointer-finger.

"Gimme my gun," I said. Tandi shook her head.

"I'll give it to you as soon as you take your booger-hook off of the bang-switch! That ain't just bad form- if it were hot, that would be _dangerous._ "

"But what if I have to shoot a bad guy? Shouldn't I be ready to shoot him?" I asked. Tandi strengthened her grip on my weapon.

" _No._ Finger off the trigger until you're ready to shoot." Reluctantly, I removed my finger from inside the trigger guard, and stuck it out in line with the barrel. Tandi let go of the iron. "Acceptable. But, your technique is shit- when did you start shooting?" I fished around in my pouch for a hand full of fresh rounds.

"...Since yesterday." I balanced the shiny little bullets in my palm, and began to thumb them into the chamber. "Of course, all I'm missing are corpses. I still haven't whizzed any live deathclaws yet." As I was about to slide in the last round, Tandi stuck out her hand to stop me. I looked up irritatedly.

"You see that funky tip? That's a magnum round, kicks more than the rest. You'll hurt yourself shooting that," explained Tandi, before I could ask what the fuss was about. I ignored her and tucked the round into its spot.

"How about we test that?" I closed the cylinder, spun it until I'd lined the magnum round up with the barrel, and pointed it at the dead scorpion in front of me. Tandi crossed her arms.

"I ain't responsible for what's about to happen. I warned you." I took a hand off my barking-iron to wipe the wet air out of my eyes, then quickly put it back in what I thought was its proper place and tried to get the sights lined up again. As soon as the sights were in alignment, I quickly and confidently pushed down on the trigger.

Ka-BOOM! In an instant, my entire left hand erupted with fiery pain, and the iron went clattering to the ground. There was something on it- a ketchup-red stain on the shiny metal cylinder. There was red running off of my hand too, I realized- a big patch of my left palm and the entirety of my surrogate thumb had been violently stripped of skin.

Shaking, I fell to my hands and knees, and tried to figure out what the _hell_ had just happened.

"Told you," said Tandi. I clutched at my bleeding hand.

"Wha- what was that!?" Tandi knelt down beside me, picked up my gun, and looked at my hand. Seeing the wound, she laughed a little bit.

"Ah. That, comrade, was what happens when you don't respect your weapon! All that power has to go somewhere." I stared fearfully at the blood-stained cylinder gap.

"I- yeah, I guess it does! Do you have any bandages?" Tandi shook her head.

" _Nyet_."

I groaned, and reached into my pocket to retrieve a pack of quickclot dressings, which were all that I still carried in my coat since I'd run out of the pre-packaged four-by-fours. My left hand hurt too much to use, so I tore open the shiny golden packet with my teeth.

"Wish you would've told me…" I muttered. I took a deep breath, because the chemical reaction from the quick-clot bandages was going to be _very_ hot, and started wrapping my wound in it.

"I did. You ignored me." I grit my teeth and tried not to show Tandi how much pain I was in. It burned- The clotting agent made a literal _hissing_ noise and a visible plume of steam as it reacted with the blood and rain on my skin. I don't know how hot it was, exactly, but it definitely hurt almost as much as a Stimpack. Tears streamed out the corners of my eyes as flesh both injured and uninjured was burned white.

"You should've dried it off first," remarked Tandi. I pulled the bandage tight.

"Shut up." I pulled out my utility knife, grabbed the dangling, un-treated tip of the bandage, and sliced it at the end point. The hellish little strip of bandaging hissed and smoked for a good few seconds before the reaction had run its course. _Gold-standard my ass..._

"Not gonna use your stimpack?" I shook my head.

"Nah. I've only got this one left. I'm saving it for when one of y'all gets hurt," I explained. I saw Tandi's shoulders relax.

"Good. Maybe you ain't as hopeless as I thought." She motioned to the gun. "You want to try again?"

"No, but I'm gonna." Actually holding the iron was uncomfortable-bordering-on-painful, given the searing burns that laid under the bandage, but I suffered through it and fell into what felt like a proper shooting stance. Tandi stood behind me and put her hands under mine.

"Your grip is better. Put your head forward, flex those knees. You know where your center of gravity is?" I shrugged. Tandi squatted down behind me, and bumped her breastplate against the part of my back where my spine transitioned into my butt. I instinctively arched my entire back to compensate.

"Is that it?" I asked, lurching forward and shuffling my feet to try and maintain my fragile balance. Tandi stood back up.

"It's close enough. When you're positioning yourself, use that as a reference." I nodded, and tried to set my body in an approximation of the position that Tandi had been holding it in. She leaned me forwards a bit, then backed off. "Acceptable. Make it a lifelong habit, and maybe someday you'll actually hit something!"

"I'm very good at making habits," I said. I lined up my sights with the eye-cluster of the dead scorpion that I'd been firing at, and put a bullet straight through the center. There wasn't any impact debris that I could see through the heavy rain, but there didn't need to be; I knew that I'd hit it. When you hit a shot like that, you can _feel_ it. "You can go now."

"Not yet, comrade. We still got some unfinished business from this morning." I lined up my next shot and pretended not to hear her. I heard the hammer click back as I pushed down on the heavy trigger. "Apparently, you don't trust me enough to-"

BANG! The tiny little six-gun jumped in my hands as the muzzle exploded in a flash of light and heat. I saw a little plume of dust kick up in the distance.

"Would you shut your mouth, Tandi? I can't concentrate with you yelling in my ear, with that- that _stupid_ mask!" I shouted, lowering my iron and turning to face Tandi. She took off her helmet.

"Is this better?" I shook my head and turned around again. I'd come here to shoot some corpses, and I'd be _damned_ if she was gonna stop me…

"Isaac, I ain't angry at you. I was angry this morning, but I understand; you didn't trust me. It's alright. I didn't trust you neither."

"Oh no, I trust you just as much as I trust your asshole boss, and I told him about it! I didn't tell you because you didn't ask." The pain in my left hand was starting to become unbearable, so I drew myself up into a dueling-stance and tried to aim it using only my right hand. Turns out, that's way harder than it looks. "It don't help that you would have teased me about it if I did tell you. You'd think I was being a pussy."

"No, I wouldn't," said Tandi. She knelt down next to me. "You are willing to _die_ for your family, and that is something special! I admire that." When she said that, I felt my heart do something funny in my chest. I admit that I might have smiled a little bit, before quickly settling down and getting back to aiming. Hearing that The Scourge of Kiev admired me was definitely a highlight in my life.

"I never had a real family," she continued, sitting down on the wet ground with her helmet on her lap, "but the Spetsnaz raised me and the NCR gave me a second chance, and I would do anything for my brothers and sisters in arms. Knowing that they would do the same is what held us together." Tandi took a little tinfoil packet of white pills out of one of her vest pouches, and popped one out of its place. She offered it to me silently.

"Thanks," I muttered. I took it with my throbbing, injured hand, and quickly popped it under my tongue. I continued to line up the sights as the bitter painkiller dissolved in my mouth.

"You've earned it. Unless you do some shit that makes me revoke your kneecap privileges in the next few days, I might even start calling you friend." I rolled my eyes.

"Gee, Thanks. You're a mass-murderer and I don't want to be anything like you, but at least you're good company."

"Ditto, sawbones."

I wiped my hair out of my eyes again, then took another shot at the scorpion corpse. The gun fired higher than I was expecting, but it still landed. The .38 round ripped a big chunk of chitin off the top of the beast's back.

"A lot of aiming for a lousy shot," said Tandi. I shrugged.

"At least I hit it." I briefly experimented with holding the gun using both of my hands again, but it just hurt too damn much, so I grudgingly settled back into the funky dueling stance. My mind couldn't help but wander as I waited for the sights to line themselves up with the target...

"Hey Tandi? Could I ask you a question that ain't about guns and shooting?" Tandi glanced up from the helmet in her lap. She looked suspicious.

"Tread lightly," She replied. I nodded.

"Right. It's nothing serious- I was just gonna ask if you'd ever dated anyone before. Just, out of curiosity." Tandi gave me a hollow smile.

"You're looking for advice about Savvy, right?" she asked. I nodded shamefully. "Well, I never dated any women. Not seriously. I was with one man, _Andrei,_ for a long time, but that ended with both of us putting a bullet in each other's skulls..."

"That probably ain't a great source of advice," I admitted. Tandi shrugged.

"Break up before you kill each other- that's good advice." Tandi took out the little aluminum packet again, and swallowed two of the pills at once. She stared off into space for a little while. "Oh, and don't give him your kidney! You can't ever take it back."

"Well, I don't feel like we're on the level of murder or kidney theft just yet, so that's good. But, I did just say some really mean shit to her, and I don't know how I'm going to fix it." Tandi took her rifle off her back, and placed it on her lap. She started cleaning out the ejection port.

"Was any of it true?" she asked, scrubbing vigorously at the black-tinted metal. I shook my head.

"No."

"Then say sorry. It ain't complicated."

"But do you think she'll accept it? What if she stops liking me?" Tandi shrugged.

"That's her choice- If she don't like you anymore, then fuck off. God knows I'd be happier if you two called it quits." I lowered my pistol. I couldn't concentrate on aiming, not anymore. I stared wistfully at the crashed helicopter on the rainy horizon.

"I should go do that," I said. Tandi waved me away.

"Get to it, comrade! Longer you wait, the more it hurts." I nodded, but stayed rooted to the spot. _Could I do it?_ Was I really ready to go apologize, or was I just going to find a way to screw it up again? And what if I came back and Savanna yelled at me, and I had to cry myself to sleep again?

I looked down at my pistol.

"...One more shot?" I ventured. Tandi nodded.

"One more shot."

Grinning with a not-unfamiliar sense of guilty pleasure, I fell into a semblance of a proper stance, stretched out my arm, and blasted away the rest of my worries in a greenish-white cloud of hemolymph and chitin.

-Break-

I opened the vertical bay-door as quietly as I could, and peered inside. Savanna was sitting on the floor next to Gram's cot, hunched over a steaming cup of something. As I stepped inside, I noticed that the whole bay had a vaguely sugary smell to it.

"What do you want?" she asked, not looking up from her drink. I sat down next to her.

"Nothing." Still refusing to look at me, Savanna took a long, angry drink.

"Whatcha drinking there?" I asked. Savanna regarded me suspiciously.

"Jello juice." All of my clothes were completely soaked through, so I silently removed my jacket and rolled up my sleeves. Savanna continued to avoid my gaze.

"...Well? Are you just going to pretend like you didn't do anything wrong?" I shook my head solemnly.

"No. I came to apologize, but I'm not sure how to say it. I still don't got any explanation for what I said-

"You mean you don't have any excuses?" I grimaced. _She's right about this,_ I thought, _Don't take it as an insult…_ I took a deep breath.

"Yeah, actually. Something besides you was stressing me out, but I took it out on you anyways. I figure there isn't really any good excuse for that." Savanna continued to sip her Jello-Juice distrustfully. I obviously wasn't very good with cues, but I was smart enough to take her coldness as an invitation to scooch back a little bit and check on Gram. The extra distance between us seemed to help; I saw her lower her shoulders a bit as I backed away.

"Is Gram okay? I tried my best to watch him, but I'm not a doctor like you," said Savanna, her tone just a bit softer than the last time she'd spoken. I nodded.

"His vitals are par for the course, I think. The ventilator looks like it's doing its job." I checked Gram's arm to make sure that the IV was still in right, and grabbed my stethoscope from its hanger. A quick auscultation of his breathing noises _almost_ made me second guess my statement, until I remembered how harsh Gram's breaths had sounded when I first assessed him. Compared to that stridor-y mess, his breathing was positively peachy. "No, I'm sure Gram's gonna be just fine…"

"Good. I wish you hadn't left me here with him."

"Me too. Talk is cheap, I know, but I'm real sorry about that. I won't ever do it again." Savanna finished off her drink, and then looked up at me with an expression that I couldn't parse.

"What _exactly_ are you not going to do again? Could you be more specific?" she asked. I shrugged.

"I uh, won't pick any stupid fights with you I guess." Savanna looked away from me again. She rubbed her eyes.

"... You know, Isaac, I want to believe you, but you haven't been a very good promise-keeper so far. I'm kind of starting to wonder how much I can trust you when you say these kinds of things."

I'm gonna admit, out of all the things that had hurt me lately, that one inexplicably hurt the most. I felt an actual, physical pain in my chest when she said that. She was right, but that didn't make it any better; In fact, I think it might've made it worse. It's not like she'd betrayed me- really, she was just explaining to me how _I'd_ betrayed _her._

Desperately holding back tears, I nodded.

"I understand that, Savanna. I care about you, and I'm sorry that I hurt you. I got nothing else to say." Savanna looked me up and down warily. After a few seconds, she shook her head.

"You know what? I can't process this tonight. Maybe I'll be ready in the morning, but I just can't do this right now."

_There it was._ I cleared my throat to keep the tears out of my voice.

"And that's just fine. I can take the tent, if you wanna sleep alone tonight," I said, even though I didn't understand her and I really wished that she'd make up her mind. I didn't look at Savanna's face to see her expression, but I think she was relieved. I heard her let out a tired sigh.

"I- yeah, I think that's a good idea. I'll come get you if Gram starts dying." I stood and stared at the wall for a few seconds. Savanna coughed pointedly. "So, are you going to like… _go_ , any time soon?"

"Of course," I said. As quickly as I could, I swept up my soggy jacket, threw it on over my shoulders, and walked right back out the way I'd come. The rain hadn't let up any since it started back in the gulch, so I rushed as quickly as I could to the glowing orange tent that sat tucked up against the side of the crashed helicopter. It wasn't fully pitched, seeing as how Gram had collapsed halfway through setting it up, but it was pitched enough that someone as small as me could comfortably sit up in the middle, and it was only sagging from the rain in one spot. I unzipped the front entrance, jumped inside, and rushed to zip it back up before too much rain could get in.

It was warmer in here, I noticed- at some point, someone had set up a little green gas lantern in the sagging corner of the tent, where the torrential rain had collected atop the rainshield. I prodded the bulge with my foot, and it jiggled like a blob of orange jello.

" _Gross,_ " I muttered, to no one in particular. My clothes were also pretty gross, and I didn't want them dripping all over the perfectly good sleeping bag and pillows, so I started stripping those off. Everything was soaked through- even my hiking boots were heavy with water. It was a nasty feeling, just one on top of so many others at this point. I took those soggy boots off first, then my khakis, then my blue button up shirt that was stained almost black with sweat by now. I vaguely remembered starting the journey with a green tie, but that seemed like such a silly thing to be wearing now. _So much had changed since I'd started..._

No- homesickness would _not_ do right now! The last thing I wanted to do was cry myself to sleep, and seeing as how just thinking about mom in an abstract sense had made me flip out on my favorite person in the world, I was pretty sure that actively dwelling on it would be a one-way ticket to a miserable night. Instead, I pulled up the sleeping bag around my bare, bruised, pale-ass little body, and tried to let my brain take a rest. Counting sheep never did it for me, but imagining that my brain was a television and I had a remote had worked in the past. I tucked my head into the pillow, and hit the power switch.

It didn't work. I tried shifting my weight around, stuffing my face in the pillow, brushing my hair back, all the usual stuff, but I just couldn't get comfy. It was weird, being alone in bed, after getting pleasantly used to sharing. I had so much more space than I knew what to do with.

Suddenly, I saw a flicker of movement through the semi-transparent tarp, and heard something shuffling in the dark. My mind was all groggy at this point, but I was just awake enough to know that this could be something dangerous. I scrambled to grab my gun out of my pant-pocket, and then swung out the cylinder- _empty!_ I swore under my breath.

"Who's there!?" I shouted, because I didn't know what else to do. I heard a familiar groan of annoyance come from behind the flap.

"It's me, Savanna! Can I come in?"

"Oh. Uh, sure." The tent flap started to unzip. I quickly stashed the gun in my discarded trousers, and tried to pat down my hair a little bit, so that I didn't look as much like a vagabond. After a few seconds of fumbling with the zipper, Savanna emerged through the opening, carrying something large and blocky under her jacket. _A radio, maybe?_ I tried to rub the blurriness out of my eyes, but it was a pointless effort. I needed my glasses.

As Savanna zipped back up the entrance flap, and I began the search for my glasses, I tried to think of reasons why she might be coming into my tent in the middle of the night. _An assassination, maybe?_ I could really only think of any realistic reason that fit with what we'd agreed on, and I _definitely_ wasn't ready to deal with that if it were true. I rolled over so that I was facing her.

"Is Gram dead or something?" I asked, only kind of hoping that he was. Savanna shook her head.

"No. He's awake now, actually." I looked up at her. In a lot of ways, we were matching now; Her eyes were puffy and red, her clothes were damp from the rain, and there was a nasty bruise running from her forehead to somewhere under her wet mess of hair. Despite the argument we'd had, I still found my protective instincts flaring up as I stared at her.

"Are you-" I started. Savanna waved dismissively.

"I'm okay."

I plugged that into my head. _If Savanna wasn't dying of anything, and Gram had gone stable..._

"So, if you don't need my help, what are you doing here?" I asked, scooting my sleeping bag over to make room for her on the tent floor. To my surprise, she ignored the empty space and sat down on top of the sleeping bag with me.

"I was lonely." Savanna lifted up her jacket, and showed me that she'd been carrying a thin, leather-bound book, with some words that I couldn't read written on the front. I raised an eyebrow.

"That your diary?"

"Yeah. Remember those pictures that Amos told you about?" Savanna opened up the book, and it immediately fell open to a little wooden bookmark. She flipped it back a few pages, and then presented it to me. "Well, I thought I'd show them to you. I know they aren't great-"

"These are beautiful!" I said, and meant it. Savanna laughed.

" _Pfft_ \- sure, in the same way you think I am, I'll bet! Maybe if you'd stand still a little more, I could draw a decent picture of you." She started flipping the pages again, and I saw that for several pages, all that she'd done in her diary was a series of progressively improving drawings of me, with tiny little captions sitting beneath each picture. It was kind of weird- I definitely would have felt embarrassed, if I were the artist. But at the same time, I couldn't help but love it; The attention to detail didn't always paint me in the most flattering light, but I liked that about it. It was honest.

"Ooh, clearly you hadn't seen me without a shirt yet when you drew this one," I said, pointing out a hastily drawn sketch of me in my boxers. Savanna's skin flushed red, and she quickly flipped the page.

"No, I guess I hadn't." This page had a bunch of pictures of us together in the bunker, a couple of which were decidedly more accurate in regards to my level of fitness. Disturbingly so, actually- _just how long had she spent staring at me?_ I chuckled under my breath, and put my hand on top of hers. She slipped her jacket off and cosied up next to me in the sleeping bag.

"So, does this mean that you're not mad at me anymore?" I asked. Savanna gave me a look.

"Oh, don't get me wrong here, I'm still _pissed!_ I just came to terms with the fact that I love you anyways." She paused and closed the book. The tent was silent for a moment as she searched for the right words. "...Like, there's definitely some underlying problems between us, but I think we can sort those out when we're not under so much stress. It's a little bit hard to work through relationship problems when you're putting so much energy into surviving. You know what I mean?"

I processed that for a minute, then decided that I could deal. Mom and Father (sounds weird when I say it like that, right?) had both taught me to forgive and forget, but I was beginning to understand that this policy probably didn't apply very well to relationships. Ignoring people's mistakes just encourages them to repeat them.

"Yeah, that works for me. Wanna make out?" I must've caught Savanna off guard with that, because she broke out laughing like a strangled goat. Reluctantly, she put her hand on my neck...

" _Well_ , that's not how I was going to broach it, but-"

"But you'd be lying if you said that the thought didn't occur to you," I finished. Savanna groaned. "Exact words, right?"

"Yes. It's disconcerting."

"And hot."

"No, just disconcerting."

"Disconcertingly hot?"

"If I kiss you, will you stop saying words?" she asked. I took a moment to consider her proposal.

"...Prolly," I decided, eventually. She kissed me on the lips. "But, wait, what if I have something _really_ important-"

" _Huài dàn_ **!** Are you _trying_ to sleep alone, Isaac?"

I didn't have much to say after that.

[+]


	22. 22

(+)

ROBCO(R)

LOADER V10

EXEC VERSION 43

32K RAM SYSTEM

0 BYTES FREE

HOLLOW TAPE LOADED: “ [+] ”

INITIALISING…

INITIALIZING…

**FAILURE**

* * *

The window shattered. The layers of skin separated. The eyes spun in circles as the flesh turned black and bumpy as it sloughed off his skull.

  
I turned away.

The window shattered. The layers of skin separated. The eyes spun in circles as the flesh turned black and bumpy as it sloughed off his skull....

I buried my head in my hands, but my eyes wouldn’t stop seeing.

  
  
“Hey Volker, do you see that? I think there’s something in the  _ window _ -”

I jumped forwards, but it was too late. The window shattered. The layers of skin separated. His eyes puffed out of their sockets and the blood poured down out

the blood poured down out of his nose and around his ears. He opened up a maw full of broken teeth and stared at me with his swollen eyes. His skin was white as snow. 

_ White as snow.. _ . The other one was white as snow-  _ Volker.  _ Coffee grounds were slipping out the corners of his mouth. His stomach had exploded inside him. His blood was burning hot with disease.

  
God, his skin was so hot- so hot that it was coming off. His skin was coming off all over the floor, but he would be okay.  _ It was okay.  _ I was there. I put my hands on his chest, and then the bullet ripped through his jaw. 

I tasted his blood on my face. Bright red blood, sprayed across jagged teeth and hanging skin. A living avulsion. I tried to put his head back together, but the pieces ran through my fingers. Empty eyes full of blood-

I looked away. Empty eyes full of blood and tears begged me to keep trying, until his forehead caved in and his eyeballs popped out of their sockets. The monster turned her iron on me.

  
“I don’t want to die,” I said, but the words were trapped in my throat. Hot metal punched through my chest- a sound I’d never forget. I shook my head.

  
  
“I don’t want to die.” My glasses shattered. Blood ran down my forehead. I felt my whole body prickling. I rolled onto the floor; the skin was sloughing off my bones.

  
  
“ _ I don’t want to die! _ ” My head was buzzing violently as my lungs collapsed and my stomach exploded inside of me. My blood ran hot with disease.

“I’m not going to die,” I decided. I pointed my pistol at it, because when the bullet hit then it would split and deflate like a vacuum tube. My finger was wrapped around the trigger, and all I had to do was  _ squeeze… _

* * *

“Isaac,  _ baobie _ , are you okay? You’re shaking.” 

  
My eyes snapped open- The morning air of the waking world felt cold against my skin. Up above me, the orange roof of the tent was being pelted by a steady shower of rain. I could feel Savanna’s body behind my own, holding me close with her arms wrapped tight around my chest. 

I sighed.

  
  
“Yeah. I’m okay.” I turned my head to the side, and realized that I was holding my six-gun in my hand. My finger was resting on the trigger. “Just- just a bad dream. That’s all.”    
  


I dropped the gun.  _ ‘Just a bad dream-’  _ god, if only I’d known! I laid my head back into Savanna’s chest, and tried to let the images fade away. But those were sights I couldn’t unsee, sounds I couldn’t unhear; The waking world offered no escape from the pictures that had burned themselves into my brain. I tried closing my eyes, but that only made the blood more vivid. I could practically smell it as it ran down my face, and soaked through my clothes. There’d been  _ so much  _ blood, much more than any person should have inside them...

  
“Are you sure that you’re okay?” asked Savanna. I dug my teeth into my lip. 

“ _ No. _ ” 

And then I started crying. Quietly, at first, but after the first few shuddery sobs, I guess some sort of dam broke, because after that I just lost it. I broke away from Savanna, pressed my forehead against the tarp floor, and wailed like a baby in a vat of acid. Soon, hot tears were pooling up around my uncontrollably running nose. 

“Oh- Oh, Isaac…” Savanna crawled up next to me and draped her jacket over my back. I tried to look at her through the tears. 

“I don’t- I don’t  _ get _ this! It don’t make any sense!” My arms and legs were shaking too much to hold me up, so I collapsed onto my stomach. Savanna didn’t say nothing; she just grabbed me under my arms, lifted me up into her lap, and put a cool hand on my forehead. I could feel my whole body shuddering in her embrace.

“ _ I’m so sorry _ ,” I whimpered, trying in vain to wipe away the tears in my eyes. Savanna squeezed me against her.

“It’s almost over, Isaac. We’re  _ so  _ close now.” That should have comforted me, but I just started crying harder. Because the truth was, I didn’t  _ care  _ how close we were. I didn’t want to be close, I wanted to be  _ done _ ! I’d seen things that a kid’s not supposed to see, and now no matter how close to or far away from New Vegas I got, I was never going to escape that. 

_ In that moment, I knew that I’d be stuck with this horrible journey for the rest of my life.  _ _   
  
_

[+]   
  


  
  



	23. The Home Stretch

(+)23

2075 ROBCO(R)

LOADER V1. 1

EXEC VERSION 41.10

32K RAM SYSTEM

4209 BYTES FREE

HOLLOW TAPE LOADED: "THE-HOME-STRETCH"

INITIALISING…

SUCCESS!

**STATUS**

Battery Level: 68%

Wireless Signal: (?)

Operating Temperature: 91F

**HEALTH**

BP: 130/90

SPO2: 100%

Temp: 98.5F

RR: 16

HR: 80

**WARNING: GALLBLADDER ABSENT!**

TIME

Day: 3 October 2279

Time: 13:42

**CLIMATE**

Current Temperature: 60F

Atmospheric Pressure: 712 mmHG

* * *

The time of day was supposedly noon, but I couldn't see a damn thing. All around us, violent, deafening winds blew up stinging clouds of dust and sand, turning anything past a few yards into a black silhouette against a dancing orange sky. My geiger counter was letting out a steady stream of ominous clicks.

"Well, this sucks!" said Savanna, through the scarf that she'd tied around her face. I brushed away the thin coat of dust from my sweaty brow.

"Yeah! Any idea how close to the road we are?" Savanna gave me a noncommittal shrug.

"I'm not sure. Gram, do you remember what direction we were going when we started chasing Hebe?"

"West, I think!" replied Gram, from atop the recently recaptured Brahmin. Savanna scrolled over my pip-boy's dusty map-screen again.

"Well, the GPS still won't work, so I don't really know. I didn't start counting minutes or steps in time to do any accurate math." Savanna looked down at the ground for a moment. She pressed her finger tips together like she was about to do some math in her head, but I guess it didn't work out, because soon she was just staring at her feet again. "Sorry."

"Are we at least going the right way?" shouted Tandi, her amplified voice piercing through the omnipresent cloud of white noise. Savanna reached into her bag.

"I'll check!" She rooted around in her bag for a few seconds, and apparently came up empty. She checked another pocket, then rooted through the pockets of my coat that I'd let her wear, then patted down her sundress only to realize that this one didn't have any pockets, then checked the front of her bag again. The whole time, Gram regarded her with increasing suspicion.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, because I was starting to get worried for her. Savanna threw her bag down in a huff.

"Yes! I think I left my compass behind!"

Under my storm goggles, I raised an eyebrow- that didn't strike me as being especially important. I probably would've been embarrassed if I'd screwed up twice in a row, too, but given how she usually handled failure, this seemed to me like a distinct overreaction.

"Can't you just figure it out with the sun?" I asked, although it was admittedly kind of hard to tell where the sun was at through the stinging haze. Savanna shook her head.

"No! Well, actually, _yes,_ but my dad gave me that compass! It was one of the last things I had to remember him by!" Savanna sounded close to tears. I couldn't really relate- I wasn't particularly attached to any of my souvenirs, because I was sure that I'd always be able to remember all of the important stuff without them. Still, I gave Savanna a sympathetic shoulder pat.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll remember him anyways. Don't you have any pictures of him?" Savanna shook her head.

"Only the ones that I drew of him. Our stupid fucking mayor thought that Polaroids would steal your soul or something, so we weren't allowed to have them!"

"Actually, he probably just read the bible verse about Graven Images. I've heard from some reliable sources that that's a sin," said Gram, " _my life is a series of sins,_ " Hoplite. Savanna wasn't amused.

"Yeah, well, in that case, I feel like the drawings should've been forbidden too. That's the literal definition of a graven image. If you're going to follow a book of rules down to the letter, then at least apply it consistently!" Gram took another puff of his cigar.

"I wasn't arguing with you."

"Well, it sounds like you were."

"I wasn't."

"So you've told me!"

"I did tell you. So, color me confused that you're still-"

"Shut your useless mouths!" Barked Tandi, suddenly and unexpectedly. Everyone went quiet. "Draw. We ain't alone." She clicked on her night vision visor, and scanned around us. Midway through her scan, she stuck her six-gun in the air and fired off a round.

"Get down or get shot! I know where you are!" She shouted. A few seconds later, a little red flare light sparked up in the dust storm. A baker's-dozen wolflike outlines blinked into existence in front of me.

"At ease, everyone!" said someone who I couldn't see. I looked a little bit closer at the approaching outlines, and realized that there was a tiny little person sitting on top of one of them. "I am unarmed! I don't have any weapons!"

"No, but you do have a whole damn pack of Nightstalkers!"

My mind froze- _Nightstalkers._ Not coyotes or wolves like I'd thought, but fucking Nightstalkers! I'd approached one once, as a child, and I'll always remember the sense of pure, cold dread that I felt when it turned around and it wasn't a puppy. It was like grabbing onto my mom's leg and realizing that I'd actually just accosted some random stranger, except that the stranger had a horrible scaly head and made a weird rattling sound when it looked at me. If Mr. McBain hadn't been there to scare it off, it would have ripped my throat out before I could scream.

And here was this tiny little lady, with a whole pack of them plodding along behind her. Fourteen hybrid beasts, shimmering in the sandstorm.

"I'm warning you, don't come any closer! I will shoot you!" warned Tandi, leveling her six-gun with the Nightstalker-jockey. The pack kept advancing.

"I wouldn't do that, good ranger! If you shoot, my dogs will not hesitate to tear you to shreds!" The Nightstalker Jockey was close enough now that I could make out her features, in the dim red glow of the road-flare that she held above her head. She was short- shorter than me, even, but about Tandi's age based on the lines of her face and the gray roots of her impressive afro. Her skin was dark brown, and when she smiled, her teeth were bleach white.

"Tandi, back down," muttered Gram. He hopped off of the back of our lone surviving Brahmin, and strode forwards to meet the nightstalker lady. She stayed atop her beast.

"I like your style, ma'dam! My name is Gram Hoplite-" He extended his hand. "What's yours?"

"Ringleader, professionally. You seem like a nice enough fellow, so you may call me Topsy!" responded the woman, taking his hand and shaking it. Gram nodded earnestly.

"It's always good to meet another traveler out here. I'm sorry that we got off on the wrong foot, Topsy."

"Oh, It happens quite often. Most people don't like my dogs very much I'm afraid." Topsy waved her road flair and the pack took a few steps forward. Immediately, I fled behind Tandi; I didn't like her dogs very much.

"Let's cut the bullshit. How lost are you, Topsy? Can you put us back on the road?" demanded Tandi, putting a protective hand on my shoulder and pushing me back even farther. Topsy ruffled her red leather coat indignantly.

"Lost? Miss ranger, I am an explorer! I am _never_ lost." Tandi held menacingly silent as she waited for Topsy to drop the act. "Oh, fine. I can lead you back to the road, but I'd like a small favor in return-"

" _What_ do you want?" Unfazed, Topsy removed a pretty golden compass from her pocket.

"Well, you must all be weary, traveling through this storm all day…" She smiled wickedly. "All I ask of you is that you take a night to recover at my bar. At your own expense, of course."

"And supposing we don't have time to rest?" ventured Gram. Topsy snapped her compass shut.

" _I think you do."_

Tandi thumbed her six-gun. Savanna put her hand on her bag. I wanted to fit in, so I brushed aside my coat and rested my hand on my holstered iron, and watched as Gram and Topsy sized each other up.

"Ha! You guys hear that?" Gram turned to look at us. His mouth was doing what I can only describe as an un-smile. "Looks like we're taking a break after all!"

And just like that, all tension in the air dispersed into the all-consuming wind. Gram and Tandi broke off from the group to discuss, and Savanna and I just stood there awkwardly as Topsy and her pack approached us. In the absence of a giant ranger to cower behind, and with just a teensy bit too much pride to use my woman as a human shield, I found myself standing frozen as the rattling, hissing monsters closed in around me, their eyes fixated on the magnesium glow of Topsy's road flare. I decided that this was what hell must be like.

"Can you make them go away?" asked Savanna, when she realized that I was uncomfortable. Topsy shrugged.

"Sure!" She spit on the thick hide glove that she wore on her left-hand, and cupped it over her dying road-flare. Immediately, the entire pack blinked out of existence, leaving Topsy hovering in the air in a cloud of reddish grey smoke.

"Oh _no_ ," I said. Topsy's invisible mount started rattling. "OH JESUS!"

" _Dude_! That's the coolest thing I've seen, like, EVER!" Shouted Savanna, while I sprinted over to the cart and dragged myself atop it. Topsy laughed.

"Yes, I'm very proud of my dogs! It's good to see that I am not the only one who admires their capabilities."

"Can they track scents?"

"That's why I bought them all those years ago! It took them less than a month to pay for themselves, with all the bounties and missing people out here…" Topsy scratched her invisible snake-dog's head. I curled up into the fetal position. "Why, just last night, these beautiful hounds finally led me to a missing caravan that everyone else had given up hope of finding anywhere!"

"What's this about a missing caravan?" interjected Gram, who must have been done talking with Tandi now. Topsy pointed off into the sandstorm.

"I found a missing NCR caravan lying off the side of somewhere over yonder. The bodies had been picked clean by the crows, but I could still discern that it was a laser weapon that killed them. Barely a struggle, it seemed." Gram looked uneasy. Still, he didn't keep Topsy from continuing. "The NCR broadcast said that they were carrying dangerous goods, and that we should mark down the coordinates and leave it be. It must have been important, because they demanded that whoever found it give them the location in person. No radio broadcasts, in case someone else picked up on it."

"Did you leave it be?" Asked Gram. Topsy laughed.

"Obviously not! First thing I did was check the back of the wagon. And you know what was there?" Gram cocked his head. Topsy made a big, "O" with her fingers.

" _Nichts._ Nothing. Null _._ The entire wagon was empty, you see." She let that settle for a while. I fully expected Gram to puff on his cigar at this point, but he didn't; he just stared off into space. Topsy waved her hand in front of his face. "Hello? Are you in there, Mister Hoplite?"

"Right, sorry. Long day, y'know?" Gram took off his goggles and rubbed his eyes. "You didn't find anything? Nothing at all?"

"Why do you care so much?" asked Topsy. Gram sighed.

"I... think I might've known those guys. Was one of them wearing a blue coat and a feather hat?" Topsy nodded solemnly. "God, what a waste. I thought for sure I'd make it to retirement with Atticus." I couldn't read his expression under the goggles and scarf, but Gram suddenly looked very vulnerable, standing there with the molten end of his cigar slowly flaking off into the wind. He put a hand over his heart. "I'll make sure to tell his family when I get the chance. Are you sure you didn't find _anything_ that I could remember him by?"

"Well, now that you put it like _that,_ I might have found something…" Topsy fished around in her coat pocket for a moment, then drew out a tiny black key hung on a leather string. Gram looked taken aback.

"Oh. Where exactly did you find that?" Topsy steepled her fingers in the universal expression of guilt.

"Well, seeing as how the poor wretches had no use for their earthly possessions any longer, I may have _very briefly_ scanned their pockets and bags," she replied. She offered the key to Gram. "I'm very sorry about your _Kumpelin._ Would this make it better?"

"No. Keep the key. I just wish I could talk to him one last time…" He did another dramatic sigh. Topsy, apparently moved, hopped off the back of her invisible mount, and put a comforting hand on Gram's shoulder.

"Well mister Hoplite, I am no therapist, but I find my dogs to be quite a pick-me-up. Me and you could spend some time at the bar, if you wanted!"

Gram looked over his shoulder at me. He was smiling, I noticed- smiling like a wolf. I rolled my eyes in disgust.

"I'd appreciate that. They seem like neat pooches; Never seen a Nightstalker trained like that before. Can you make them show up again?

Topsy shrugged. "I suppose so. It's hard to pet the beasts when you can't see them." She reached into her coat and pulled out a zippo lighter with a colorful, cutesy flower pattern on it. She held it beneath her road flare. "Don't be surprised- When the lights come back on, they're never quite where you expect them to be!"

The flare sparked to life, and the Nightstalkers blinked back into existence. All of them were within a few feet of where I'd seen them last, thank god. I counted them just to make sure.

"Ten, eleven, twelve…" I scanned the area below. One was missing. "Hey Savanna, where's the last-"

Behind me, I heard a rattling noise. I looked over my shoulder and there it was- the smallest of the pack, standing atop the cart with me. Staring at me. _Breathing on me._

If it weren't for the storm, my shriek probably would have been audible across the Mojave.

-Break-

It was midday at the dusty little rest stop, and I was getting real tipsy. A few hours and a few drinks had come and gone in a loud, mirthful blur of comradery and conversation. All the way, Gram used his charming stories and dead-friend points to solicit us discounted drinks from an apparently smitten Topsy, who was flirting with him so brazenly that _I_ could tell. I tipped back in my stool.

"Aaaanddd, you lose!" I shouted, slapping down a cheeky Jack of Spades and finally ending the vicious hand of Caravan that Tandi and I had been playing for the better part of ten minutes. Tandi spat on the ground. Gram leaned out from behind Savanna to stare at me.

"Goddamn kid, that's three games in a row! How'd you win this time?" I shuffled my deck and grinned.

"War of attrition! I got a bunch of faces and some wheelcards, so I put together a couple Caravans and used my coats to keep her from ever having more than one. I knew I couldn't get three stacks without her licking me first, so I just ran her out of cards," I explained. Gram nodded deviously.

"Clever. Not what I'd call artful, but you played a bad hand well. Where'd you learn to play?"

"Same place I learned to hold my liquor! My momma runs a Casino, remember? I grew up on this shit!" I took another swig of beer to accentuate my point. In response, Tandi knocked back a half-shot of Vodka, and Gram took a slow puff on his cigar. I thought for sure that Savanna would take at least a little sip of her red wine, but she just kept swishing it around in its glass. She glanced at Tandi's unkempt deck.

"Can I play a hand yet?" she asked. Both Tandi and I glared at her; her innocent smile did nothing to conceal her evil intentions.

" _Absolutely not!_ You're always winning all the time, because of that stupid head-calculator. It's basically cheating!"

"Agreed. I don't play with bookies," insisted Tandi. Savanna made a pouty face.

"Aw. You're both bad losers." She took a sorrowful sip of wine. "And, if you won't play, how else am I supposed to practice?"

"I mean, we could always play without any stakes," I offered. Gram grimaced. Tandi and Savanna set down their drinks. On the other side of the bar, Topsy stopped petting her freaky snake-dog and looked at me like I was an insane person.

"Blasphemy," said Savanna. Nods of agreement were had all around the table, and I couldn't help but agree. In some distant corner of the tarp-covered outdoors bar, someone went careening out of their chair. He made a sad little, "whump" as he hit the ground.

Everyone stopped what they were doing to look.

"Is he dead?" Shouted some lady at the end of the bar. A bar attendant went rushing to the man's side, and placed her hand on his chest.

"...No, he's breathing! Is anyone here a doctor?"

Before I could respond, Gram leaned out from behind Savanna again, and did the, "I'm watching you" thing with his fingers. ' _Don't,'_ he mouthed. Savanna put her hand on mine. It seemed like everyone in the party was staring at me again, and I hadn't even done anything yet.

"Oh well," I said. I eyed my half-empty beer bottle longingly, took one last swig, and slammed it down on the bar. I kicked over my stool.

"Yeah, I'm a doctor! Let's get this over with!"

Gram went slithering back into place, glaring at me the whole way. Savanna looked concerned for me. As was the natural way of things, Tandi grumbled something in Russian and took another shot of vodka.

"What do you think happened to him?" asked the bar attendant, as I went swaggering over to check out this poor unconscious man with his bald-head and his tan, well-ironed suit. I got down on one knee and checked his airway.

"Airway is sound, Respirations are a little fast, but they ain't shallow. Lemme check his pulse…" I put my hand on his carotid. Somewhat to my surprise, I got a strong, steady beat. "Huh. Strange."

I checked my surroundings, and spotted a spent syringe on the ground next to me. I pulled up the man's sleeve. On his thin bicep, I saw a purple, swollen patch of skin where he had clearly injected something many, many times. A little trickle of blood was still running down his arm.

It was at that moment that I took my bets about what was wrong.

"You think he overdosed?" asked the bar attendant, cautiously plucking up the offending syringe between her thumb and pointer-finger. I smiled.

"Sorta. Have y'all got any agave juice? Maybe some breakfast syrup?" She looked at me strangely. At the bar, a weird little kid with curly hair and a leather trench-coat stood up.

"Ooh- I have some syrup!" He shouted, and drew a big old bottle of NCR-standard maple syrup from inside his coat. I motioned for him to come over.

"You aren't going to use all of it, right? This stuff is expensive," said the kid, as I took the bottle from him and popped the cap. I shook my head.

"Nah, just a little bit. You, go get me a spoon!" Quickly, the bar attendant went rushing back over to the bar, and by the time she'd gotten there, Topsy had already grabbed a couple of spoons. She handed them off.

"Which one do you want!?" demanded the Bar Attendant, stumble-sprinting back across the room with silverware in hand. I pointed to the smaller one.

"Little spoon! I'm gonna stick it down his throat!" If there was anyone who hadn't been looking at me before, they were looking at me now. I filled up the little spoon with maple syrup, then, as an afterthought, grabbed the bigger spoon, too. I didn't fill it with syrup.

"Are you sure you're a doctor?" asked a concerned bystander at the bar. Ignoring that somewhat reasonable question because I wasn't sure that the answer was, "yes," I opened up the patient's mouth, depressed his tongue with the big spoon, and carefully maneuvered the little spoon to the back of his throat. A quick gag-reflex check came up with nothing, so I let the maple syrup trickle down the back of his esophagus.

"What do we do now?" asked the bar attendant, whose face was all shiny with sweat. I checked my pip-boy.

"Well, next I'm gonna need my beer. Savanna, could you grab me that?" Wordlessly, Savanna picked up my mostly-empty drink from the bar and ran it over to me. Maple-syrup-boy nodded understandingly.

"You're going to use it to clean off the place where he gave himself a shot, right?" he asked. I laughed.

"Oh no, that'd be stupid! I'm gonna use it as a sedative." I took the bottle from Savanna's hand, and downed it in its entirety. I dropped the empty bottle on the ground. "Mm. Can't risk getting too excited, right?"

At this point, I'm pretty sure that everyone thought I was either completely swacked, or just out of my mind. I wasn't particularly concerned- This wasn't really an emergency, per se, and I was just tipsy enough not to be self-conscious. I'd done everything I could do, and now I just had to wait. I checked my pip-boy again.

"Hmm, maybe he needs more syrup. It's been a minute." Just as I prepared to pour some more of the syrup-kid's treasured maple syrup into the little spoon, the man on the ground made a loud, mournful groan. I could feel the whole bar let out a collective sigh of relief.

"Why am I on the floor? And why does my mouth taste like pancakes?" murmured the man, looking around confusedly. He tried to sit up, and promptly bumped his head on the corner of the table. I eased him back down to the ground.

"Easy there! It looks like you took too much medication, probably skipped a meal somewhere. I used maple-syrup to get your blood-sugar back up."

"Oh!" shouted the bar attendant, comprehension finally dawning on her. She laughed. "You're a diabetic! That was an insulin shot I found!"

"Correct on all counts. This hasn't happened to me in years." The man checked his watch. "My oh my- Four o' clock? I suspect that I've forgotten some things."

If he was distressed by this fact, his face didn't show it. Careful to avoid hitting his head again, the man stood up, straightened out his suit, and rubbed the back of his shiny bald head. He stood nearly as tall as Tandi, and was just as skeleton-thin. I'd definitely seen his face on at least one poster before.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" I asked. The man nodded.

"Most likely. I'm Jack Monroe, Senator of the NCR's Mojave chapter." All around the bar, people gave surprised looks. Tandi turned around on her stool.

" _Monroe_? Where'd all your hair go!?"

"I shaved it," replied the senator, matter-of-factly. He patted me on the shoulder. "Thank you for your time and expertise. Are you this, "Lucas," that I keep hearing about?" If I were a little more sober, I think I might have sought out an EKG machine to smash over Monroe's shiny bald head. Instead, I just laughed.

"Nah, I'm his kid, Isaac! Some asshole courier killed Lucas years ago."

"Oh. My condolences." The senator extended his hand. "I'm going to have a meal to balance out my blood sugar. Isaac, right?"

"Yep." I hadn't noticed it before, but there was an ever growing crowd gathering around me and the senator. Assuming that they were just there to get in on the sweet political gossip, I took his hand like I'd take Savanna's, with our fingers all interlaced and stuff, and shook it violently. Monroe quickly withdrew.

"Well, thank you again, Isaac. I'll remember you this election cycle." The senator broke through the growing crowd, and retreated to another corner of the bar. Oddly, no one stopped him, or even looked at him- they all seemed to be focused on me. I raised an eyebrow.

"Savanna, why are they looking at me?" I asked. One of the people at the forefront of the crowd raised his hand.

"If you're a doctor, can you check me out too? I've got this toothache that won't go away!" He shouted, pressing on one of his rotting molars through his cheek. A lady in the back raised her hand.

"Yeah, and I'm itching somethin' terrible between my thighs! What do you think is wrong with me?"

_Oh no!_ I hadn't realized that there were this many people taking refuge here, much less this many _sick_ people. Of course, the weather had been brutal the last few days, and this was the only real shelter for miles, but it still seemed like a _lot_ of people…

I looked around for an escape route, but found none- my only exit would be to lift up the tarp and run out into the sandstorm, but where would I go? Gram gave me a knowing look.

"Jeezum fuck," I muttered. I assessed the growing mob of patients. "Savanna, could you do me another favor?"

"Maybe," she replied. I pointed to the bar-entrance.

"Get my bag. And grab me some music, too- this is gonna take a minute."

* * *

_**Don't drink, don't smoke, what do you do?** _

_**Don't drink, don't smoke, what do you do?** _

_**Subtle innuendos follow,** _

_**must be something inside…** _

"Oh man, that's a _lot_ of pus," said Savanna, as I maneuvered the deeply-buried chunk of glass out of a purple-haired lady's arm. I swabbed the wound with a penicillin-soaked strip of gauze.

"Yeah, but I'll bet she feels way better with that thing out. Right, lady?"

"Yeah! Itsth like gettin' out a spthlinter!" she replied, through the stubby wooden pencil that I'd made her bite down on. I gauzed up the wound, and let her spit the pencil out in my gloved hand.

"I mean, It's kinda the same idea. Lets try and get it out earlier next time, m'kay?" The woman nodded.

"I'll be carefull-er next time. How do you want me to pay you?" I should have been thinking about my empty wallet, but, as my tipsiness began to fade, all I could think about was my empty bottle. I eyed it sorrowfully.

"...How about another drink?" I asked. The woman smiled.

" _Consider it done!"_

* * *

_**Country roads, take me home,** _

_**To the place, I belong!** _

_**West Virginia, mountain mama!** _

_**Take me home, country roads...** _

"Take me home, country _rooaaaddddsssss_!" I finished. I laughed, and Savanna laughed, because she was kind of drunk too. The patient, who's throat was too swollen to speak, let out a sad groan.

"Well, it looks a lot like you're having an _aller-getic_ reaction to something! This happens a lot, eh?"

"Eh?" giggled Savanna. I gave her a playful push.

"Whatever- I caught you sayin' 'y'all' last night, that stuff rubs off! Allergy-man, does this or does this not happen often?" Allergy-man nodded shamefully. I reached into my bag and opened up a packet of purple diphenhydramine pills. "Alright. These oughta help with the swelling. Don't try an' swallow em, just let it melt in your mouth. Like a, uh, like some ice cream. _Dry_ ice cream."

"Like the stuff on spaceships," said Savanna, nodding informatively. I didn't know what she was talking about, but she was too smart to be wrong, so I just grinned and nodded along.

"Yeah, jus' like that!"

"Thanks," croaked the man, after he'd popped the pills into his mouth. I gave him a big hug.

"Aaawww, don't mention it! Jus' stop eatin stuff that makes this happen!" The man wiped the tears out of his swollen eyes, and started limping back over to the bar. I caught him by the shoulder before he could leave.

"Oh, and one more _teeny_ little thing-" the man turned around bewilderedly. I patted his arm. "Could you- Mm, could you be a saint and get me another beer? I'm runnin' kinda low now."

* * *

_**Super-trouper beams are gonna blind me,** _

_**But I won't feel blue!** _

_**Like I always do,** _

_**'Cause somewhere in the crowd there's you…** _

"Hold still, pal! Iss' almost out!" Mayonnaise-Man sobbed uncontrollably as I continued my efforts to extract the 5-inch jar of mayonnaise from his poor, stretched out John-Duane. The contents of the jar were clearly rotten, so it must've been up there for a while…

"How'd you say that got in there?" asked Savanna, looking slightly queasy. The man clenched his teeth.

"I- I felled on it, goddamnit!" Savanna and I shared a look. _We knew_. Still, it wasn't my job to judge, so I just kept trying to get it out in front of the massive crowd of drunken spectators. Mayonnaise-man had already been humiliated enough today.

"Oh- oh, it's coming out! I've almost got it! We are in the home stretch now, mayonnaise man!"

"Hah- home _stretch,_ " said Savanna. I started laughing maniacally.

"Shet up! Both of yew can shet yer _goddamn whore mouths_!" sobbed the patient, digging his fingernails into the table and clenching every muscle in his entire body. His legs were shaking so bad that I was surprised he hadn't fallen over.

"HEY! Isaac's not a whore, _you're_ a whore! You're the one who shoved a jar of mayonnaise up your-"

"I GOT IT!" I cried as I went tumbling onto my kiester, mayonnaise jar held firmly in my gloved hands. "You owe me a drink now!" Savanna crossed her arms.

"Yeah- you owe him a drink, _whore."_

* * *

_**People getting loose y'all, getting down on the roof!** _

_**Folks are screaming! Out of control,** _

_**It was so entertaining- when the boogie started to explode,** _

_**I heard somebody say-** _

"BACK! Back, you! I'll jab yer eyes out!" I warned, waving my laryngoscope menacingly at the crowd of angry geriatrics in front of me. They were undeterred. One older woman raised her walking stick.

"But doc, I can't live with this pain! I need some morphine!"

"Yeah! We deserve treatment too!" The mob of angry old people with their aches and pains began to converge on my poor, crapulous ass. I looked around desperately.

"Tandi! Tandi, I need'jer help!" Someone threw a shoe at me, and I brought up my bag to block it. Another one soon went sailing right over, and clocked me right in the forehead.

"OW! Tandi, goddamnit, I _NEEd'jew!_ " I stumbled up against the table in the corner. Even if I weren't seeing double, I'd still have been completely surrounded.

" _TANDI!"_

* * *

_**I've got sunshine, on a cloudy day!** _

_**When it's cold outside, I've got the month of May!** _

_**Well I guess you'd say-** _

_**What can make me feel this way?** _

"Welp," I said. I stared at the shriveled, severed head in front of me, and its sunken eyes stared right on back. "I think your boyfriend may be dead." I stared at it for a little while longer. Savanna had fled my side as soon as this crazy fuckin Psycho-addict set the severed head down on the table, but I didn't find it nearly as disturbing as I should. I was just that blitzed, I guess.

"Oh, I thought he might be! Can you bring him back to life, sir?" Asked the girlfriend, smiling sweetly but also glancing around the room like she was expecting to be attacked at any moment. I hiccuped.

"Mm- scuse me! Uh, no, he's dead. Like, _wayyyyy_ dead. Boyfriend ain't coming back." She sighed dramatically, and put the head back in her purse. I started giggling. "But- but, you know, it's funny! _It's funny._ I mean, it ain't funny, you know it ain't funny, but you're good, you seem like a good lady, trying to take care of your boyfriend like that. How'd you like to be my uh, my _deputy_ tonight. Wouldn't that be neat? Being yourself a _Physhisian-Assitsants?_ " She eyed me suspiciously.

"What do I get out of it?" She asked. I pointed to the pile of empty beer bottles on the floor, then at the bar.

"Free drinks! More'n you can handle, I bet!" She appeared to consider the offer for a moment. Eventually, she started smiling again.

"Alright! I'll be anyone's partner for a free drink!" I threw my hands up in the air.

"Hooray! Yew hear that, Savanna? She'll be anyone's pardner fer a free drink!" I stumbled over to my table, and started laughing hysterically. I slammed my fist on the tabletop. "Oh, she'd be anyone's partner, fer-uh free drink…"

* * *

_**And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain,** _

_**Don't carry the world upon your shoulders!** _

_**For well you know,** _

_**That it's a fool who plays it cool...** _

"So, your, uh, your foot's infected, you think? Can I get a little _peek_ at it?" The scruffy bearded man in front of me, who was either just as drunk as me or drunker, put a hand to his ear. He made an old person sound.

"EH!?"

"I said, lemme see your foot, you stupid bitch!" Immediately, I felt bad about what I said. I put my hand over my heart. "I'm- I'm really sorry. That was a bad, but I promise, I promise you right now, that I ain't, not drunk. I still got my wits about me, see?" The dude just kept looking at me, and I kept looking at him. I motioned at his foot.

" _Well_ , off with it! Lemme see where it hurts!"

The man shrugged, and carefully removed his foot. Not his boot, mind you- well, yes, his boot, but also his whole foot. He grabbed onto my PA's shoulder so he wouldn't fall over.

"Ooh. Thas' nasty," I said. My PA held him steady.

"Oh no, sir, this man has worms in his foot! What are we going to do!?" I thought about that for a moment. What _were_ we going to do!?

"Amputate!" I concluded, eventually. "Les' knock him out and take his leg off where the death starts!" We were both silent for a moment.

"Are you sober enough to cut off his leg?" asked my PA. I shook my head.

"Hah- Nope! How 'bout you?"

"Maybe?" She unshouldered the uncomplainingly footless man, and passed him off into my arms, leaving his necrotic foot abandoned on the floor. She took a few experimental steps.

"I'm good! I am _definitely_ good!" Not three seconds later, my poor Psycho-addict assistant passed out on the ground. I sighed defeatedly.

"Hey Savanna? I need help again!" After a few seconds without a reply, I cupped my hands around my mouth, and took a deep breath-

" _saAAVVAAANNAAAaaaa!_ "

* * *

_**If I should call you up, invest a dime,** _

_**And you say you belong to me, and ease my mind!** _

_**Imagine how the world could be, so very fine** _

_**So happy together!** _

"What does this do?" asked the little girl on my lap, rotating my laryngoscope around in her hands. I tied my previously discarded tie tight around her right arm, and started searching for a vein again. I had a vague notion that I ought to be not searching for a vein, but I couldn't actually remember why.

"That's a larnyg- larygn- _laryngoscope_ , and iss' for lookin' down throats and tubin' old folks! That's how I knew you had Strep." The little girl didn't look up from the scythe-shaped tool to acknowledge me. She was utterly entranced.

"Remember sweetpea, those are tools, not toys. Don't take anything without asking this here nice doctor first," said one of her dads, a well-dressed cowboy who smelled like a christmas tree. I waved him off.

"Oh, don't worry 'bout it! She's cool, iss' not like she's strong enough to break anything!" A few seconds later, the blade on my laryngoscope snapped off and clattered to the floor. I lurched backwards. "Woah- alright, _showoff!_ That wasn't a challenge."

"Everything is a challenge to our little Amara!" joked her other dad. I liked her other dad; he was this really chilled out schoolteacher, which was cool cause there weren't a lot of those in the Mojave. _I bet that I could've been a schoolteacher!_

"Savanna, you reckon I'd be a good teach-schooler?" I asked, as the blurry little girl moved on to my stethoscope. Savanna patted my head.

"I'm sure you'd be a perfect teach-schooler, _baobie._ Have you found a vein yet?"

"Negative. She's got real tiny veins, y'see." I palpated Amara's other arm for a second, just to see if I could find anything. She took the opportunity to place the stethoscope against my chest and search for a heartbeat.

"Here," I indicated, with my free hand. Amara put the stethoscope over my heart. "You seen a doctor use one of them things before?"

"Only on T.V," she admitted. Cowboy-dad shook his head.

"Actually, you probably don't remember this, but doctor Mumma used one at your first checkup. You tried to bite him for it." The little girl appeared to think about that for a moment. She shook her head.

"I'd remember that," she concluded. Both dads smiled.

"Of course you would, Sweetpea. You remember everything."

"Not everything- I once forgot how to spell cemetery. I thought it used an A." I looked at her funny.

" _How old_ didja say she was again?" I asked. Teacher-dad looked solemn.

"Nine years old."

"Nine years and seventy one days," corrected Amara, still absently listening to my heartbeat. I nodded.

"Right. And y'say she wears these here earphones 'cause she don't like noises?" Teacher-Dad nodded. Cowboy dad eyed me up warily.

"Hold up- you're trying to say there's something wrong with our daughter, right?" he ventured. I nodded again.

"Yes! She's got _the auts,_ you see." Savanna tried to stifle a giggle, but it didn't work. Both dads looked somewhat offended.

"I- I'm sorry, that wasn't funny! It's just, the way he said that…"

"What do you mean, " _The Auts?"_ asked teacher-dad, grabbing Amara by the arm and looking at me with a fatherly death-glare. I was too drunk to be intimidated at this point, so I just pointed at my head.

"Iss' what I got. Not- not the drunk. Cause I'm maybe a _littttleee_ tipsy tonight. No, she's got some of that autism, or, or, Burgassers- or, _Aspergers_ , or whatever. Just means that her head works all different." Cowboy-dad still looked confused and angry, but Teacher-dad looked like he understood. He let go of his daughter's arm.

"I don't feel any different. I'm just very smart," said Amara. I smiled.

"Thass' a good thing! I ain't even a little smart, so-"

"Oh stop it!" interrupted Savanna. I shushed her.

"Shh! No! I'm- I'm demonstratin' a point here, bout how she's on a sorta spectrum. Like a, uh, a slidin' scale. But not like that. More like a…"

"A coordinate plane?" she offered. I nodded vigorously.

"Yeah! Exactly like a cordial plane! Like, it seems like she's all sensitive to noises, sorta like me, but then she's also got a real good memory, and does a fixatin' thing that I don't do no more. She got any stuff that she won't shet up about?"

"Ceiling Fans," replied Teacher-dad, and Amara nodded happily. Cowboy dad looked betrayed.

"Right. So, don't worry, cowboy-dad-"

"My name's Nolan." I rolled my eyes.

"Ugh. Alright, _Nolan,_ don't worry 'bout it, cause it's nothin' to write home about. I'm sure Amara's gonna turn out fine. I mean, look at me!" He looked at me. I don't think he was very impressed.

"All I see is a drunk teenager," said Nolan. I tapped my Follower's badge.

"Ooooh, surely, but look- I'm a doctor, too. And I know what I'm doing." Finally, I managed to get a good idea of where Amara's tiny, rolling Cephalic was. I marked the injection site with a little orange dab of PVP-I. "Right here!"

Savanna was just about to inject the penicillin, when I suddenly flicked aside the needle. Savanna seemed slightly confused as I redirected it to the girl's thigh.

"Ah shoot, sorry y'all, just remembered that this stuff is IM! Means intra, intramuscular. Muscular. Could do bad stuff if we stick a vein. Prolly not, but let's jus… ah there we go!"

There was only a tiny, bright red drop of blood that emerged as Savanna put the needle in Amara's thigh and pushed the penicillin. As soon as she removed it, I swabbed the wound and wrapped a strip of gauze around her leg. Amara didn't seem to notice. She had moved on to auscultating my breath sounds, and wouldn't let a silly little thing like a 20 gauge needle distract her.

"Done! And, seein' as how you're my last patient tonight-"

"Hey, you two!" I turned around sluggishly. Gram was standing behind me, with Topsy sitting atop his hunched shoulders. I rubbed my eyes.

"What?" I asked. Gram smiled sheepishly.

"Well, I'm going to be… _off_ , until tommora' morning-"

"Your boss is going to sleep with me, because neither of us have "gotten any" in proverbial _eons_ ," interrupted Topsy. The dad's gave each other a look. Gram shrugged.

"What she said. You two, be up by noon. I'll meet you outside the hotel." Gram trudged off with the tiny bartender on his back. I blinked.

"Oh, there's a hotel here? With beds?" I stared at Savanna. In my drunken haze, I felt something a little less innocent than butterflies in my stomach when she brushed her hair back and smiled back at me. "Guess I know what I'm doing tonight..."

"Ahem!" said Cowboy-dad, or Dolan, or whatever his name was. I snapped my fingers.

"Right! Anyways, since yer my last patient, I'm gonna leave you with a partin' gift. Take off your ear-phone-things!" Amara removed the shiny red earmuffs from her head. Before I could think to regret my decision, I'd already changed them out for my comtacs. I adjusted them to fit her tiny head. "How's that sound?"

"The people in the bar aren't yelling anymore!" replied Amara. I looked around- since the sandstorm had abated and it was so late at night, there were only a few people left in the bar, hardly enough to produce even the usual dull roar. Suddenly, my noise-sensitivity didn't seem so bad.

"Oh no, sir, you shouldn't- that's too much! Amara, give those back to him," demanded Teacher-dad, looking at me like I was dangerously insane. I shook my head.

"Nope. She needs em more than- more'n me. She don't have to give em back."

"I wasn't going to." I laughed and nudged her off of my lap.

"Good! Y'all can head on outta here now. If er' throat gets worse, do more of this stuff. S'called Pencilitin. Pencillin? I dunno. It ain't hard to find."

"Thank you," said Teacher dad. I picked up my latest half-empty beer.

"Iss'cool. Drink?" Both dads shook their heads.

"Thanks for your help, but I think we ought to get out of here now. Come here, sweetpea!" Cowboy-dad scooped up little Amara in his arms, and walked away without another word. Teacher-dad stood around for a little while longer. He gave me an awkward salute, and then followed after his better half. I didn't pay attention to where they went, but when I looked around the bar again, they were gone.

_Aaaaannndddd, that's a wrap!_

"Oh my god, that was _adorable!"_ squealed Savanna, as soon as the family was out of earshot. I threw up my arms.

"Right!? I don't even care that she broke my throat-thing! I bet you that girl is goin' places," I said. Savanna sighed wistfully.

"Yeah. And that was really nice, what you did for her…" She leaned in closer. Her breath smelled like grape juice. "I bet you'd be a good dad."

"You think?" I asked, because between my intoxicated state and my general self-loathing, I really wasn't sure. Savanna did that silky smile-thing.

"Really. You'd be perfect." We were silent for a moment. No one seemed to notice us, huddled up in the corner of the giant tent, surrounded by empty beer bottles and discarded medical supplies. I put my hands on her waist.

"You're really pretty," I murmured. Savanna giggled.

"Aw! You're pretty too!" She tapped me on the nose. I consider nose-tapping to be one of my general no-no's, but for some reason, I thought it was really cute when she did it that time. Probably because I had about four living brain cells left, and they were all thinking about the same thing. It was inevitable, really, with all this talk about me being a dad. The mind wanders.

" _We ought to do a sex together_ ," I suggested, still straight faced and staring her dead in the eyes. In retrospect, and given our relative levels of drunk, there was something like a 50-50 chance that such a glorious pick up line would work; Maybe even 60-40, because Savanna had a very good sense of humor when she was tipsy. In such a universe, I'll bet I would've felt like a total ladykiller before I passed out drunk.

But of course, I live in the other timeline, and that didn't happen. Instead, there was an awkward four second silence before Savanna burst out laughing, and then suddenly I was laughing too, and soon, both of us were rolling around on the ground, laughing our stomachs out. It wasn't my most impressive moment by any means, but when I think of nights to remember, these are the kind of things that come to mind. These were the moments that I was sure I would surely miss when the journey was finally over.

Of course, there's another reason that I (try to) remember that night: Plastered as I was, I was happy. _Really_ happy _,_ and in the coming days and weeks, that would become something of a rarity. We were in the home stretch, after all. This was the last happy night that I'd have for a long time.

[+]

**Author's Note:**

> https://docs.google.com/document/d/12rM7BgQlq1mD7QSRkbuRHC3fCJq6XbE-peex4WAQTWI/edit?usp=sharing
> 
> For Practicing Medicine art, music and other stuff


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